


Hear me Howl

by Jazz_2_chess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Monster of the Week, Stiles Stilinski Is Bad at Feelings, The Hale Pack - Freeform, soft Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 39,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazz_2_chess/pseuds/Jazz_2_chess
Summary: A walk through the woods in the middle of the night rarely ever ends well. This time, however, the pack stumbles into something bigger than they would have imagined when Stiles had insisted on checking out the Nemeton.Just to be sure, right? Stiles had said.And right, he had been, because a darkness is lurking in those woods that could cost them more than they were willing to pay.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 38
Kudos: 270
Collections: Sterek to read during social distancing





	1. You may have heard it...

_How amazing it is, I wonder, how the heart makes no noise when it cracks._

The moonlight painted the woods with shadows that were indistinguishable to the human eye. Noises, if from an animal or something else, echoed through the tree tops. It shouldn’t feel claustrophobic, walking through the forest, not when he had been doing this since he had been sixteen.

Tonight though, it seemed different, colder.

Lonely.

He yearned for company, even if it was Jackson’s. But no one had joined him. They all had things to do and Stiles didn’t blame them. Still. His heart beat faster in his chest than what should be normal. He turned his head at the slightest sound, ready to defend himself from whatever lurked in the shadows. The flashlight only lit up a small path in front of him and he stumbled more than once while trying to find his way. A twig broke to his right but he didn’t pay it much attention.

The back of his neck tingled unpleasantly, as if someone was standing right behind him. When he whipped around to see, pulse already quickening again, nobody was there. He turned back around to find Derek staring at him.

“JESUS!”

He stumbled, fell over backwards, his back hitting a tree.

“Derek what the fuck!” He bit out once he had gotten his breathing back under control and the wolf in question had pulled him up.

“I told you on the phone, I’ll be there in thirty minutes. It’s not my fault you’re impatient.”

Derek said, casual as you please. As if he hadn’t almost put Stiles in an early grave by giving him a heart attack.

“That’s not the point!”

“No?” he was smirking. That asshole. Stiles didn’t even need to shine the flashlight in his face to know that.

“NO!” he fought off the urge to stomp his foot, pointing accusingly at Derek’s chest.

“The point is, we talked about your weird stalker behaviour! This is so not cool! I told you over and over again! It’s fucking creepy!”

Derek didn’t look sorry. Amused rather. When he didn’t say anything, Stiles shoved at his chest and continued on his way.

“I still don’t see, why you didn’t wait for me to come with you.”

“Because I said, I would do it and I don’t need you to babysit me!” And he shouldn’t. He should have been perfectly capable of doing this alone. Even if he was human and he had no other defence than his mouth and his bat.

But, truth be told, ever since the Nogitsune, he didn’t like the woods at night. He could never be quite sure whether or not he was asleep. Hell would freeze over before he would tell anyone that, though.

“Not babysitting.”

Stiles scoffed. What else was this supposed to be then?

“I always tell you, I don’t want you out here alone in the middle of the night. It has nothing to do with babysitting.”

“Then what is it? If it’s not that!”

“Hindsight?”

“Don’t be smart.”

“But I am.” He said it so solemnly with such a look of utter seriousness that Stiles had to bite down on a smile.

When Derek realised, Stiles was truly upset, his tone changed. A little softer, he said “I don’t want the others out here alone either.”

Almost as an afterthought, he added “It’s not because you’re human.”

Stiles refused to admit that it comforted him, knowing that Derek didn’t get so paranoid because he thought Stiles couldn’t hold his own.

“Come on.” Somehow, Derek had gotten ahead and was now pulling Stiles with him.

“Did you hear it yet?” Derek asked after five minutes of comfortable silence. Stiles didn’t want to admit how much his anxiety had faded since Derek had shown up. Having a big bad wolf on your side would do that to you, especially, if you were the this close to being the red riding hood. Not that he would ever tell Derek that.

God knew, the guy already had enough complexes without Stiles adding to it.

“Why are you asking me? You’re the one with enhanced hearing.”

And if Stiles wasn’t mistaken, then Derek looked as if he had forgotten about that.

Heh.

“We should be there in about ten minutes.”

There being the Nemeton. It hadn’t acted up for quite some time now, even though, Beacon Hills had remained a literal beacon for the supernatural even after the Alpha pack had left.

Once the stump came into sight- at least for Derek since Stiles couldn’t see any further than the shine of his flashlight- they noticed the cracks reaching all the way to the root.

“That-” Stiles breathed “is not good.”

Derek traced the crack with his fingers.

“What even has the power to crack open the Nemeton?” Needless to say, it frightened him. 

“I don’t know.” Derek’s voice held a note that Stiles had always been weary of hearing: uncertainty.

“Why did we have to do this in the middle of the night, again?”

“You know why.” To be fair, he did. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be annoyed.

“And you’re absolutely, one hundred percent sure, you heard someone howling?”

Derek was about to answer, when someone else did so for him. There was no mistaking the howl that made the trees shake with its intensity.

“It’s all wrong,” Derek said while keeping his eyes focussed on their surroundings as if he expected an attack.

“What do you mean? That sounded like a regular wolf-howl to me.”

“It wasn’t. It’s too-” he hesitated, listened for it again and when it came, he turned to Stiles.

“It’s too young.”

“Too young. What, like a cub?”

“I- no- it doesn’t sound like a real wolf. More like someone imitating what they think a wolf sounds like.”

“Well, then they’re doing a pretty decent job, if you ask me.”

“They are,” Derek affirmed, “that’s why it’s wrong.”

Stiles stared at Derek with, what he felt was, a look of utter confusion. When Derek didn’t continue or elaborate, Stiles rolled his eyes and asked him to explain.

“The howl sounds like a child. But if it is- it shouldn’t-” he paused but Stiles had caught on.

“It shouldn’t be able to imitate that well… I see where you’re coming from.”

The thought was unsettling, to say the least.

“So, there’s a child running around howling like a wolf. But it isn’t a wolf?”

“Yes.”

“’kay. Any idea what to do about that?”

“No.”

“Great.”

“We should go back.”

“Why?”

“Because I have no idea what it is. And if it’s connected to the Nemeton…”

“Fuck.”

Derek nodded with a sense of finality. Suddenly, the woods didn’t feel as lonely anymore. Almost as if eyes were following them through the bushes. Stiles shivered and unconsciously stepped closer to where Derek was standing.

“Are you okay? Your heart rate just went up.”

“Yeah, it’s just…” he gestured around them as if to make Derek understand without words that he was seriously creeped out.

“Come on,” Derek reached for his hand and pulled him forward. The sudden skin-to-skin contact made Stiles’ pulse race for an entirely different reason. He stumbled when Derek walked too fast for him and nearly fell over. The ground, uneven as it was, felt like a death trap in the darkness. Even the flashlight didn’t help much.

The Jeep, which he had parked on a clearing, shone pale in the moonlight. Stiles calmed down a little upon seeing it. Roscoe might not have meant safety but at least it was familiar. And whatever was haunting these woods, it was not fast enough to follow a car, of that Stiles was sure.

* * *

The decision to hold a pack meeting could not have been made any easier after Derek had found a circle of cut-down trees in the woods that had reminded him of a sacrifice so much, he had called Stiles at three in the morning to make sure he was safely tucked into bed.

The second Derek’s had words registered, Stiles had typed out a group message to alert the pack of the change in plans. Pack meetings, after all, were obligatory.

He picked up Isaac after uni and made a detour to Allison’s where Chris exchanged a glance with him that was filled with worry. He wished he could have shrugged it off.

Erica and Boyd asked Stiles to drive them home after the meeting, which he agreed to even though he had hoped to stay over at Derek’s tonight. Under the guise of doing research of course.

Isaac and Allison would join Scott for a movie night, that much had been clear since the moment Isaac had entered the Jeep. Stiles found it cute how excited Isaac got whenever Scott invited him to something. Maybe that was a little hypocritical of him. He probably behaved equally when Derek asked him to stay over.

Platonically.

Only ever platonically.

Much to Stiles’ dismay.

But then again, he had never really gotten his hopes up in that department. Derek was a brick wall paired with iron control and a disturbing martyr complex. Even if a chance existed that he could someday like Stiles back, he would manage to convince himself that a relationship would end in utter destruction. Stiles had accepted that a long time ago.

Still, those moments where Derek’s fingers brushed against his and they shared a soft smile held Stiles’ heart captive with steel force.

* * *

“We don’t know what’s going on yet,” Stiles said over Erica and Lydia yelling over each other. The pack meeting had started as chaotically as could probably expected. Stiles had just agreed with Derek when discussing the problem at hand. Namely, that trees had been cut down. They hadn’t said a word about the howl or their nightly trip to the woods. 

Jackson scowled from his seat on the couch, wary of how easily Stiles had taken Derek’s side in the argument.

Erica and Derek had been going at it, when Derek had insisted on stepping up the patrols. The entire pack had been outraged and Stiles couldn’t blame them. As far as they were concerned, they were going on patrol because Derek was paranoid about a few trees.

And as much as Stiles wanted to lay the cards on the table, he didn’t feel comfortable telling them about the howling when they had no idea what was going on. The mere prospect of the amount of anxiety Isaac, Erica and Lydia would exude frightened Stiles. He wanted to be prepared and do some research before sending the pack into a frenzy when they didn’t even know for sure that there was an actual threat roaming the streets.

He still held onto hope that the howl had been coincidence and some idiot hacking down trees.

“Patrol, three times per night!” Derek barked out, apparently as much on edge as if a hunter had knocked on his front door. And maybe he was being paranoid, but he’d learned the hard way how vital hindsight could be.

20 / 20 and all that.

“But-” Scott piped up, bringing out his puppy dog eyes that would have worked. If it were Isaac calling the shots. Since it was Derek, they were as useful as stomping his feet. The only one that could make Derek change his mind was Stiles, and, unfortunately for the Betas, he was not going to.

“How about two? That way, they could alternate?” Stiles suggested, ignoring the groans from around him. Derek nodded, contemplative.

“Three would be too much,” Stiles added, hoping to placate the Betas. Derek tended to overreact and three patrols per night would definitely fall into that category, at least at the current state.

“We don’t know for sure something’s out there.” He kept to half-truths because they did know someone was out there but that someone was always out there. That didn’t necessarily mean it was a threat. And he would cling to that hope for as long as he possibly could. And maybe, they were both paranoid and seeing things. That could easily be the case after all the shit they had been through.

Derek harrumphed but didn’t disagree. Stiles took it as a small victory.

“Then why do we have to patrol twice a night? Derek, I have to go to work! And to vet school!”

Scott really should learn to pick his battles, in Stiles’ opinion. He had been trying so damn hard to find a middle ground between Derek’s demands and the pack’s schedules.

Predictably, Derek started growling, eyes slowly but steadily turning redder.

“Patrol. Twice a night or I’ll make you do an extra round!” he stomped away, leaving Scott to gasp indignantly with his mouth opening and closing like a fish.  
Stiles sighed, raising an eyebrow at Allison to talk Scott out of his moping and went after their Alpha. 

He found him in the kitchen, reorganising his spices.

“You know he’s not doing it on purpose…” Stiles believed that with his whole heart. And Scott wasn’t wrong- at least not this time- and he also wasn’t being unreasonable. Patrol twice a night meant one-night shift per wolf so that the territory was sufficiently covered. 

“Safety first!” Was Derek’s only answer. They had been too lax with their safety measures for quite some time, Stiles couldn’t deny it. But things had calmed down to a point where even Derek took a grocery run without looking over his shoulder every few steps.

“They have lives, Derek. You can’t dismiss that.”

“So, what?” And the point was, Stiles knew Derek didn’t meant it the way it had come out. What he meant, and what his eyebrows were clearly trying to communicate, was that he didn’t know how to keep them safe and not ruin their lives by trying. Since Derek was rarely that good at expressing himself, Stiles had learned to read what he could in the lines on his face and the rise of his brows.

“I can do the patrols myself.” Derek suddenly offered, shrugging as if it wasn’t as big of a deal as it was. Stiles rolled his eyes, not surprised but still offended that Derek still had thoughts like that.

“And work yourself into the ground, so when the real threat comes, you’re out of commotion because you’re tired? I think not.”

“Then what do you want me to do?” The question, as far as Stiles could tell, was genuine.

“I don’t want you to do anything…”

“Stiles!” His voice held a warning, ringing clearly through the room.

“Just-” he breathed in, calmed himself. Getting frustrated with always being the in-between would help precisely no one.

“Just try to be less harsh when you tell them what you want them to do. If you always dismiss their objections- which, in this case? They were totally relevant. Listen to them, ask their opinion. You can still have the last word and not be an asshole about it.”

“I wasn’t trying to be an asshole…” Derek mumbled into his shirt.

“I know. But- maybe you could at least try to make them see that too…”

“Do you really think it’s nothing?”

The question wasn’t too much out of left field but still unexpected. Stiles, up to this moment, had been sure Derek had something solid to go off on, some insight he wasn’t yet sharing. He had even thought that Derek had an idea where the howl had come from. Him asking Stiles’ opinion made it clear that he didn’t.

“Why are you asking me?” Sometimes, Stiles really didn’t know why Derek kept asking him those things. Sure, he had read the bestiary to the point where he could recall almost the entirety of it, but still.

“Because you have a good sense for things that want to hurt you.”

“I…” he tried to get a good grip on his feelings and differentiate between his usual level of stress and his anxiety of something dangerous being out there.

“I think being cautious doesn’t hurt. But, at the same time, there’s nothing really suspicious about a few cut trees.” And the howl, he reminded himself but didn’t say it out loud. That could have been something entirely unrelated.

Derek nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“There’s something you aren’t telling me.” It wasn’t an accusation, merely a statement. Stiles just couldn’t shake the feeling that Derek kept holding back information.

“It’s nothing…”

“We’ve been over this, buddy. This doesn’t work if you don’t talk to me.”

“Don’t call me buddy.”

“Not the point.”

After a long-suffering sigh, Derek fixed Stiles with a stare that Stiles couldn’t quite place and said “There isn’t anything concrete but when I did my parameter run the other day, there was a new scent…”

“But the others never mentioned-”

“They didn’t pick up on it. That scent, it belongs to the trees but…” he trailed off, seemingly frustrated with himself.

“It’s like someone moves the furniture an inch to the right and you keep bumping into it and don’t know why.”

“You think something is off. You don’t know why or how or what exactly it is but something is off about the scent.” Derek, apparently grateful that Stiles had put it into words, nodded. Several different alarm bells went off in Stiles’ head. Those were too many coincidences to ignore. And that meant that the trees, the howl and the scent could very well be connected.

“It’s like it belongs and yet doesn’t belong at all…”

“But why didn’t the others pick up on it?”

“Because they’re not that good at picking up scents.” It could have sounded harsh. To some, it would probably have. But Stiles knew that Derek hadn’t meant it like it had come across.

“People’s scents are easy to distinguish. Even wolves have specific scents. And they recognise magic and wolfsbane. But this is different. It’s a layer, beneath the most prominent scent of woods and trees. Like a nuance.”

For some as inexpressive as Derek, this was quite the accurate description.

“I can look into it?” Stiles offered. He didn’t really know where he would even start but if his researching calmed Derek down, even just a little bit, he would do it.

Derek seemed hesitant to take the offer, even though Stiles had no idea why. It wasn’t unusual for him to go out on a research-binge with basically no information at his disposal.

“I can come over.”

“I mean…” It caught Stiles off-guard. They didn’t make a habit of researching together. Their normal MO was for Stiles to do the basic research and then them getting further into together. But to start at zero with Derek looming over his shoulder and breathing down his neck?

That was another topic entirely.

“Seven?” Because Stiles could not and would not say no to Derek coming over if he was dead on his feet and pushing eighty.

That simply would not happen.

“Dinner?” Derek asked the ground.

Hold on. Wait a second. What?

“Dinner?” Stiles repeated, sure he must have misheard.

“Yeah. I could bring dinner?”

Uhm.

“Okay.”

“Chinese?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t remember when talking to Derek had last been this awkward. They kept stuttering and speaking in one-word sentences and Stiles hated every bit of it. With him, it should be easy.

That’s why they worked so well together. Because Derek could be Derek without all the grumbling and the growling- even though, he did both rather frequently, especially, whenever Stiles got hurt or behaved like an idiot. Since that was ninety percent of the time, Derek’s face had shifted into an almost permanent scowl but there were smile lines now too and Stiles lived for those.

Still, awkwardness didn’t usually belong to their conversations, having seen the other covered in a plethora of substances, ranging from monster goo to each other’s blood, naturally helped that progress along.

“I’m just gonna…” Stiles waved at Derek and left the kitchen. Half-way out of the door, he cursed himself for behaving like an idiot. The pack had scattered, apart from Isaac, who lived with Derek, and Boyd and Erica who were still waiting for Stiles to drive them home. When he had become their personal cab, he couldn’t quite remember.

Not that he really minded.

“Juicy chat with our Alpha dearest?” Erica asked from the backseat once they were out of Derek’s hearing range.

“You say that like you didn’t hear us talk…”

“Spoilsport.”

“How am I being a spoilsport? There was nothing even remotely entertaining in that whole conversation.”

Even though Stiles didn’t have enhanced sense, he heard her mumble something along the lines of “Not for you, maybe.”

“Erica.” Boyd’s voice of reason should have been the saving grace. It wasn’t. Because seeing that Boyd felt the need to interject meant that there was something Erica was hinting at. And that, in turn, had Stiles fidgeting nervously in his seat.

“Stiles,” Boyd said with that unshakable calm, “calm down.”

Oh right. That heart-monitor thing.

How did he keep forgetting that?

Okay, to be fair, he didn’t keep forgetting it.

It was more of semi-permanently ignoring each and every thing that made him uncomfortable.

* * *

Stiles was so not prepared for dinner.

He had changed his shirt three times, now wearing a maroon button-up and feeling entirely too dressed up. He had called Lydia in a frenzy, demanding help that she could not really give him, seeing as she was currently at her house while he was at his. At least, she managed to calm him down to a point where he could actually comb his hair without shaving it all off and giving his buzzcut another chance. Thankfully, the destructive energy had left him once the hair gel had done its job.

“It’s dinner. You guys do this all the time.”

“No. No we don’t? What are you even talking about?”

Maybe he was overreacting? He didn’t really know; his insides were currently dancing tango with his nerves.

“Yes. Yes, you do?” Lydia mocked him but she did it with a light-hearted tone.

“On a serious note, there is no need to worry. You’re going to have Chinese, do a bit of research and then you’re going to call me and tell me all of the things you conveniently left out at the pack meeting.”

Damn it! He should have known she would catch on.

“How did you-” because they had been so careful not to let anything slip. That sounded a lot less innocent than he would have thought.

“Jackson did.”

Now that was new. For Lydia to admit it hadn’t actually been her who had realised it but also that Jackson had paid enough attention to see something everyone else had not. Stiles almost felt proud. Almost.

It was still Jackson after all.

“He got suspicious when you didn’t get into a screaming match with Derek about being unreasonable.”

“Fair enough.”

“Are you worried?” The question came out of nowhere for Stiles, who still posed in front of his mirror to see if his hair would move.

“About dinner? I mean, yeah? That’s why I called.” He heard a long-drawn sigh on the other end before Lydia said “the trees.”

“We’re looking into it.”

“So, you’re worried.”

“Yeah.” He hadn’t really admitted to it but saying it now held a certain form of freedom.

“Any- you know- visions we should be aware of?”

“No.” She sounded relieved and Stiles didn’t blame her. She didn’t have them regularly and when she did, it almost without exception meant that shit was about to hit the fan and the apocalypse was nigh.

“Stiles?” He startled when he realised he hadn’t listened to her for a good solid minute.

“Sorry.”

“I was just saying that there is no need to freak out over dinner. You and Derek are doing fine.”

Why did that sound like he had been asking for relationship advice?

“Because you were.”

Once again, with saying things out loud that should really stay in his head.

“We’re not dating.”

“Yet.”

“No. At all.”

“Because you don’t want him.”

“Because he doesn’t-” He realised half-way through the sentence that they had had the same discussion countless times already.

“Lyds- we’ve been over this. He doesn’t like me like that,” he paused, stared at himself in the mirror and saw all the ways he didn’t measure up.

“Some days I’m not even sure, he likes me at all…” he hadn’t meant to say it and he didn’t want her pity. Lydia, though, just sighed and dropped the subject. Maybe he had finally tired her out.

The doorbell surprised him when he was just about to throw a tantrum over a thread on his shirt that would not let itself be removed. Not even with a brush. He raced down the stairs, grateful for small favours when he didn’t catch his foot on the carpet, and opened the door. His attempt to look at ease and composed flew out of the metaphorical window when his sight settled on Derek. Because the asshole had on jeans that were too tight to be decent and a shirt that matched his eyes so perfectly, Stiles mentally filed a petition to ban it forever. It was just so unfair.

“Hi.” Derek said once it became clear that Stiles wouldn’t say anything. That might have been due to the absurd amount of nerves that had suddenly decided to swap over him.

“I have Chinese.” And like an absolute dork, he held up two bags, looking unsure. Stiles melted against the doorframe. Not literally, but it was a close call. He stepped aside to let Derek through and became acutely aware that he had, in fact, not spoken since his arrival.

So, as per usual, he launched into a ramble about his day that didn’t stop even while they were eating. He ended up telling Derek how he had slipped in the shower while singing to Lady Gaga. He barely had time to contemplate whether or not it had been a good idea to tell Derek that, seeing as Derek already thought he was a colossal idiot, when Derek’s lips ticked upwards. With the beginning of a smile, Derek reached over the table and put a fortune cookie on Stiles’ plate.

“You didn’t have one yet,” he explained. Stiles thought he saw his ears turn a little red but that could have easily been his imagination.

“You didn’t either.”

“Together?”

Stiles nodded, sneaking glances at Derek while cracking open his cookie. With clammy fingers, he pulled out the small paper.

“What does your say?” he asked, feeling bold once he had read his own:

_Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point._

Derek, instead of answering, kept his gaze on the paper and wouldn’t look up.

“Derek?”

Please, don’t let it be one of the bad ones, Stiles silently prayed. He wanted Derek to have a good fortune in his cookie.

Without giving him an answer, Derek almost shoved the paper into Stiles’ hands and simultaneously stole Stiles’.

_The real kindness comes from within you._

His throat felt quite tight all of a sudden and someone had stolen his breath.

“I like yours,” Derek mumbled, ears definitely pink now, “it fits.”

“Yours too.”

Derek didn’t ask if Stiles meant it. He didn’t have to.

* * *

They had migrated from the living room to Stiles’ room, taking some snacks with them for later breaks. Stiles tended to get hungry after an hour or two even though dinner had been more than filling.

“You didn’t have to start without me.”

“Didn’t feel right, you know? Sitting there and doing nothing.”

“Still.”

“No need to growl. It’s not like I actually found something.”

Derek didn’t comment while looking over the few pages Stiles had printed out.

“As far as I can see,” Stiles started “it’s not something we’ve seen yet. The howl you mentioned could be any canine like creature. We had that coyote once, could be one of those…” he let that sentence hang in the air.

“What about the trees, did you find anything about that?”

“That’s a little more complex,” he grabbed one of the books about Slavic folklore.

“See?” he pointed at two illustrations of a forest guardian.

“This could be it. A ritual to call upon the gods of the forest to keep it save or stop it from being harmed by people harvesting wood.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t think that’s it.”

“It just didn’t feel like something positive to me. And also, I doubt you could summon a guardian of the forest by cutting down its charge.”

“Fair enough,” Stiles agreed, then he caught onto the first half of Derek’s sentence.

“Positive?”

“A forest guardian would be positive.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought about it in that way.

“What about a goblin?”

“A goblin?”

Derek nodded, but it didn’t come across as convinced.

“I don’t think those are summoned by cutting down trees.”

“Right.”

“What about the scent?”

“What about it?”

“Can you like describe it to me? Maybe we can pinpoint it.”

Derek looked unsure but closed his eyes and went very still. Stiles had seen him do that a few times over the years, usually when he tried to remember a certain sensation, be it visual or olfactory.

“It’s- there is something earthy to it, something warm…” his lashes fluttered and Stiles was fascinated by it. They were almost delicate, lying softly against his cheek.

“But the layer beneath it…” he shook his head as if to shake off a thought.

“It’s… I don’t know- almost foul- and heavy…”

Stiles was still staring when Derek suddenly opened his eyes and stared right back. The green Stiles had been expecting had vanished, replaced by Alpha red.

“What is it?” he couldn’t help the tremor in his voice nor the sickening feeling flooding his stomach.

“Blood.” Derek’s face gave nothing away, “it smells like blood.”  
  


* * *

After the initial shock had passed and Stiles’ breathing was back under control, he sat down heavily on his chair and blinked up at Derek.

“How do you mean like blood? Fresh blood? Ghoul maybe?”

“No. I don’t think so. It’s- Ghouls have this rotting smell.”

Yeah, he really didn’t need to know this.

“But this is different. A Ghoul’s smell is decaying because that’s what it primarily is. But this smell… the blood is a sublayer. It’s beneath the earth…”

“Do you think you smell the blood because when you were there, it had recently killed.”

“No. That’s different. Fresh blood is overwhelming when you smell it. That wasn’t even close to that.”

“Okay, so, no idea what that smell was, the trees are still a mystery. Let’s go back to the howl.”

While Stiles went through his notes, Derek typed something into the web search. From his frustrated growl, Stiles could tell the outcome pretty easily.

“No result.”

“What were you even looking for?”

“Other creatures that howl.”

“So, you don’t think it’s trying to imitate?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about a shifter?”

“No.”

“Why not? The smell could be because he just changed skin and the howl could be him trying to imitate the wolf he’s impersonating.”

“No wolf would ever fall for that. It’s too obvious. And besides, the only wolves around here is us and we are all, you know…” apparently at a loss for an explanation Derek shrugged.

“Us?”

Derek nodded.

“We would have realised if one of us isn’t who they’re pretending to be. I would have smelled it.”

“But maybe it can change its scent,” Stiles was aware that Derek resumed typing and had probably stopped listening but it helped him put his thoughts into order to voice them.

Research went on slowly after that, while their theories grew outlandish after an hour of not getting any further.

Once more, Stiles insisted “I’m sorry. I’m still set on a shifter. It’s the most probable-”

“It isn’t a shifter.”

“Derek…”

“No. Trust me. It’s not a shifter.”

He threw his hands up in the air.

“Fine.” Stiles let himself fall backwards on the bed, entirely too exhausted to keep upright. He hadn’t realised for how long they had been working when his gaze caught sight of the clock. Two in the morning, for fuck’s sake, he had to sleep some time too.

But he was no quitter and he could hardly kick Derek out now. Not when he was slumped down so comfortably on the chair and was looking at Stiles with-

Wait a minute.

What the hell was Derek staring at?

Stiles had never seen someone look at him like that.

He almost felt a little uncomfortable before tracing Derek’s gaze to where it was locked on Stiles’ hips. Without his knowledge, his shirt had ridden up, exposing a sliver of skin just above his jeans.

And Derek was staring at it.

In the span of a second, Stiles’ brain bombarded him with a hundred and one reasons why Derek was focussed on that. Maybe he had a weird mole there or something. But then again, he had moles everywhere, so that hardly warranted this reaction. He refused, even in his own head, to entertain the most obvious idea. That Derek was staring because he found him attractive. Quite suddenly, he felt incredibly hot and fought down the urge to pull at his shirt.

Stiles was sure, his heart must have done something weird because right in this second, Derek snapped his eyes up at him.

“Uhm.” How eloquent. Stiles wanted to shoot himself. Couldn’t he, for once, behave like a normal human being and not like an idiot?

In the half-lit room, Derek’s eyes seemed a bit dark, but then again, it could be the light. Stiles would not get his hopes up, he refused.

Even though his own heart didn’t listen to him.

“Tired?” Derek rasped- there was no other word for it- _rasped_ out. The shiver that ran down Stiles’ spine was entirely involuntary. He nodded shakily, heart beating a mile per minute.

“Do you want me to leave?”

The answer to that was as easy as it was obvious. And inevitable.

No.

God, no.

If it were up to him, Derek would never leave.

“No,” Stiles finally croaked out when he realised he hadn’t really answered. Without any inflection, Derek asked softly “can I join you?”

Join him?

Join him where? What for?

Holy hell.

“You can say no.”

Out of all the ridiculous things Derek had ever said, this one might make the top of the list. Instead of answering, Stiles waved at Derek to join him and scooted over on the bed. Stiles felt the bed dip and held his breath. A heavy arm settled over his chest and pulled.

“I don’t bite.” Derek’s breath tickled where it washed over Stiles’ ear.

“No, you’re only ripping my throat out.” He felt Derek’s laugh rumble through both of them, testament to how closely they were laying.

“I haven’t said that in ages,” Derek whispered once his laughter had subsided.

“Probably because you’d miss me, Big Guy.” Stiles wanted to hit himself. This was so beyond awkward and stupid and-

“Probably.”

Stiles would never admit it, not even on his deathbed, but that one word made his heart race like it wanted to jump right out of his chest. It wasn’t much and some would argue it wasn’t even anything, but to Stiles it was enough to fuel that tiny spark of hope that he kept hidden deep in the corners of himself.

* * *

Fuck!

He sat up in bed so fast, he hit Derek in the face with his elbow.

“Stiles?” Derek slurred his words, blinked slowly while rubbing his nose.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m an idiot. I’m such a goddamn idiot, it’s not even funny.” he pulled his own hair in frustration.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Derek insisted. He had sat up too and was now staring at Stiles out of concerned eyes.

“It’s connected.”

“It’s four in the morning. Full sentences please.” Despite his nervous breakdown following the eureka moment, Stiles couldn’t help but find the way Derek said “please” adorable.

“I had a dream-” he started, still a little breathless from being woken so suddenly. He barely realised that his shirt clung to him, drenched with cold sweat.

“I was walking to the Nemeton and it was cracked. Like we did the other day. And then I was back where you found the trees but this time, the Nemeton was in the middle of the circle.”

“I don’t follow.”

“The Nemeton is a beacon, right? For druids and magic.”

“Yes?”

“What if it’s cracked because someone did something so volatile, so foul that it caused that beacon of nature to break?”

“I still don’t see-”

“The trees. It was a ritual. And whatever that ritual was- whatever it cost- it was too much for the Nemeton- too bad…”

“A sacrifice,” Derek’s eyes were focussed now, the traces of sleep had vanished.

“Yes.”

“But when Jen- the darach- when she did all the sacrifices, nothing happened.” Stiles noticed how Derek still stumbled over saying Jennifer’s name.

“Because that was just murder. But this is something else.”

“What could there possibly be that’s worse than murder?”

“Blood of the innocent?”

Stiles threw in without thought. Derek’s hand suddenly clamped down on his arm. Stiles pulled away but saw Derek’s claws had come out. When he looked up, he saw Derek had wolfed out. He spoke up then, eerily quiet and what he said made Stiles’ blood freeze.

“Blood of a child.”

* * *

The middle of the night was not the time for pack meetings, of that Stiles was convinced. However, seeing as they had discovered something so vile and most certainly dangerous, they needed to inform the others.

Lydia, who arrived first with Jackson, didn’t even raise a brow at the time. Jackson, though, pulled Stiles aside while Derek and Lydia went over their research.

“Why do you smell like he devoured you?”

“Devoured me?”

“Yeah, you know, sexed you up?”

“What?”

“It’s like you bathed in his scent and your hair looks like a bird’s nest.”

“We fell asleep.”

“After you fucked.”

“No! Jesus!” Upon realising how extraordinarily loud he was yelling, he lowered his voice and prayed Derek hadn’t paid attention. His relaxed stance seemed a good sign.

“We did some research and fell asleep. Nothing happened.”

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, why not?”

“I mean: you were in bed together, I thought, you’d man up and make a move.”

Stiles had nothing to say to that. Nothing at all. This was absurd. Make a move on Derek and get his face bitten off.

No, thank you.

He shouldered past Jackson, keenly aware of Derek’s eyes on him and settled on the couch.

Once everyone was assembled in Stiles’ living room, Stiles went into a recapitulation of what they had found. As expected, Scott was upset that Stiles hadn’t told him already, but Stiles knew he would get over it.

“So, you think there is something out there that’s killing kids?” Isaac piped up, sounding as if he wasn’t feeling well. His face held a certain paleness too. When Stiles asked him what was up, Isaac just waved off his concern.

“I just don’t like the idea of murdered kids.”

That, everyone in the room more than understood. They had never dealt with something like this before. 

“Is there something we can do?” Boyd asked from the couch. His body had a stoic kind of calm about him but his eyes flickered through the room restlessly.

“We can try to find it?” Erica jumped in. Stiles got the impression, she was rearing to do something. Anything.

“Whom?”

“The child. The one that’s been killed.” Erica said, her voice sounding wrong, restricted.

“I mean…” Stiles turned to Derek to see what he thought but Derek only shrugged.

“We can try,” he promised her.

“You think that creature killed the child?” Lydia asked. Something in her tone didn’t sit right with Stiles.

“You don’t?” Allison asked, confusion obvious in the raise of her brow. She held onto Scott’s hand while leaning forward, as if to reassure herself, he was still there.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t fit.”

“What doesn’t?” The half-sentences were setting Stiles off. It was early, he was tired and they had a dead child somewhere.

“The howl.”

“How do you mean?” Thank God, he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t keep up.

“Derek said the howl was wrong, that it was too high,” she paused, breathed in, “like a child’s.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“You think, the creature _is_ the child.” It wasn’t a question. Stiles had caught on. He didn’t need for her to nod to confirm it.

“What if-” Lydia started, “the child was the sacrifice but instead of dying it turned into something else?”

“Like what?”

Her mouth had settled into a harsh line when she said “I don’t know.”

* * *

The Sheriff came home two nights later with his brows set and his shoulders hunched.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” Stiles immediately asked, sensing that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“We have two bodies in the morgue. Teenagers. A couple.”

“What happened?”

“Someone ripped their faces in half.” Stiles froze in the doorway, bile rising in his throat. Why did those things always happen in Beacon Hills?

“Promise me, you’ll stay save while we handle this?” his father asked over the mug of tea Stiles had put before him.

“Promise, Dad.” Stiles answered easily. His mind, though, was reeling. Did that mean, that thing that had killed the child was doing this or-

No, that was absurd.

Even if Lydia was right, that didn’t have to mean anything.

* * *

“I might have found something.” Those words out of Chris’ mouth would never not be music to Stiles’ ears. He had counted on the hunter and once more, he was not disappointed.

“We have an entry on it.”

“You do?” what else were the Argents hiding in their basement if they even had an entry on that?

On second thought, Stiles probably didn’t want to know that.

Chris opened up a book that looked a good hundred years old and skimmed through the entry until he found what he was looking for.

Stiles leaned forward to read: 

_**„Drekavats** (Drekavac or Screamer) is a demon from Southern Slavic folklore, created from dead, unbaptized toddlers. It is represented as a tiny hairy creature with long sharp claws and long fur, which it stomps upon and yells in a mixture of a child's cry, scream and a wolf's howling. It could scream so loudly that people could get deaf from it. It lives on graveyards, in forests or shores of rivers, generally, in places where it died as a human. If humans approaches it, it can jump on their backs and force them to run until the first calls of the rooster. If humans resists Drekavats, their faces could be shredded with claws. Drekavac is afraid of light and dogs.“_

Stiles didn’t know what to do with this information. It confirmed his worst fear: that the child was now on a killing spree.

“We can’t kill a child,” was the first thing that came to mind. He saw his own hesitation reflected in Chris’ eyes.

“We’ll look for another way,” the hunter promised, but Stiles saw the way his shoulders set and his fists clenched at his sides. He trusted Chris and if there was another way, they’d find it.

But what if there wasn’t?  
  


* * *

The moonlight drew shadows onto his walls. Stiles kept staring at the ceiling, trying to solve a puzzle without having all the pieces yet. He couldn’t help the uneasiness that dwelled up whenever he heard a howl outside of his window. There was no way for him to differentiate between the pack and the Drekavats. The howls seemed to come closer. Stiles stiffened, listened.

He jolted upwards, when his phone suddenly blared his ringtone in full volume. He picked up without even looking at the display.

“You need to come,” Lydia’s voice greeted him but it sounded wrong, too far gone for him to reach.

“What’s wrong? Lydia?” She didn’t answer. In the background, the howl echoed through the receiver.

“Tell me where you are and I’ll get you. Just tell me where you are!”

Something rustled and then, she spoke in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know where I am. I’m in the woods but I don’t remember coming here.”

He was halfway down the stairs when a noise alerted him that Lydia had turned on the tracking of her phone. Stiles forced himself to breathe steadily and not panic when he realised how far away she was.

“I’ll come and get you. Just talk to me.” He raced through the streets, all the time listening for something that would mean Lydia was in danger. She kept talking until the trees came up in front of him.

“I had that- that dream. It was awful. I was camping and then something rustled and I went outside to look and-”

“Keep going, I’m almost there.”

“It was hideous. It looked all wrong. With claws and fur and not at all like a child. And it had those teeth and there was blood all over it.”

“Lyds? Lydia?”

“Sorry,” he heard her take a shaky breath before she continued, “I wanted to scream but I couldn’t. And then it looked at me,” her voice had gone very quiet, hollow even.

“Those eyes. They were so-”

“So, what?”

“Empty. Completely empty. Like it was dead.” Stiles took a corner too harshly, felt his back protest when he fell against the seat.

“It slashed my face. I- it hurt- and then- I woke up…”

Stiles finally reached her, relief flooding his system. She looked worse for wear in the shine of his headlights.

“Where’s the body?” He asked once she had calmed down enough to stop shivering. She pulled him with her, shaky on her feet. He tried to help her but she refused, dried the tears that had streamed down her face with her sleeve.

“I’m alright.”

He didn’t believe her. Not one bit. But he knew, she needed him to, so he didn’t push.

The body looked awful, just like she had described the attack, blood was everywhere around it. Stiles crouched down to take a closer look at the wounds when something to his right moved.

He was up on his feet and frantically pulling Lydia with him. They broke out on a run, heard a howl behind them that was entirely too close.

“Come on!” he bellowed at her. Their breath was coming short. Stiles stumbled, almost fell over. Lydia was at his side, shoving him forward. It was behind them, hunting them. They could feel its breath on their necks, smelling of blood. The Jeep wasn’t far away. Stiles knew, they just had to reach it. While chasing through the woods, he fumbled for the key, almost let it slip through his fingers.

“Stiles!” Lydia urged him on. Then, finally, the Jeep came into sight. Stiles ripped open the door, passenger door. Lydia was fast behind him. She reached the door, climbed inside. Stiles had rounded the car, was about to jump in when he felt claws rip through his skin.

He hit his head on the door, heaved himself inside, feet kicking at whatever of the monster he could reach. Pain exploded in his arm when he slammed the door close. His vision blurred. He couldn’t lift his left arm.

“Take the wheel!” he yelled at Lydia while his foot finally found the gas.

“Take it! Now!”

She startled into motion, grabbed the wheel when his arm gave out. He felt the blood run down his side, the pain almost all-consuming.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry…” Lydia screeched beside him, while Stiles tried his best to get them the fuck out of here. They reached the street just then.

“Just look at the road. It’s okay. It doesn’t even hurt. I just- I can’t lift it right now. You have to- no- take a left turn.” His sentences were clipped, his voice too breathy. They would have to drive to Scott’s.

Five minutes later, Lydia halted the car and jumped out. Stiles watched her round it and pull open his door.

“Scoot!”

“No.”

“Yes.” She pushed until he complied. He moved his arm then and almost blacked out when a sharp pain shot through him. Once he could lean back and let her drive, he noticed her talking to herself. It sounded like she was apologising and berating herself.

“It’s okay, Lyds. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was. Now shut up and stay awake. It’s only ten minutes.”

Stiles tried his best, but he wasn’t sure he had succeeded when five minutes passed without him noticing.

* * *

Ever since that night, Stiles hadn’t talked to or seen Derek. Granted, the Alpha often disappeared for a few days, but Stiles would have thought, he would show, seeing as Stiles was injured. The claw marks were slowly healing but the pain was a bitch whenever he moved. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for not having told Derek where he was going that night. They had talked about Derek’s issues and Stiles knew how scared he was of anyone in his pack getting hurt.

Human members especially.

But still, the knowledge that Derek hadn’t shown up to check on him stung just as much as the wounds in his arm.

It was, why he was currently walking up the stairs to Derek’s apartment. The lift was out of commission since Isaac had somehow damaged it while coming up. Just when he lifted his hand to knock, he heard Scott’s voice hissing something he couldn’t quite make out. He stilled, leaned against the door.

“No.” Yeah, typical Derek. Stiles almost snorted but kept it in for fear of being discovered. He would have been surprised if the Alpha had any other answer for Scott, not matter what the question had been.

“Come on, think about it. You know, he-” Now his curiosity was piqued. Who was that “he” they were so heatedly discussing? He hoped it wasn’t Isaac because the mood of the conversation seemed to be a bad one.

“No!” He wondered briefly how Derek could say the word with more emphasis without even raising his voice. It was eerily impressive.

“He wouldn’t make a good Beta.”

Wait a minute. Stiles froze half-way through opening the door. Who were they talking about?

“You don’t know that!” It sounded like Derek harrumphed at that.

“I don’t know that? Scott, he can’t sit still. He can’t control himself. He is picking fights left and right. He is reckless- incapable of following orders.”

If there had been any doubt at all in his mind, it vanished now.

Him.

They were talking about him.

And even though, he didn’t know why, he still felt like he should leave. Listening to people talk about you never ended well for the person eavesdropping.

“But-”

“No.” a pregnant pause followed before Derek continued.

“I want to make one thing abundantly clear, Scott. _You_ are my beta. Erica, Boyd, Isaac and Jackson are my betas. Stiles will never be my Beta.”

He had never known how loudly blood could rush in his ears until it deafened whatever else was being said behind that door.

He knew, he and Derek had their differences. He knew that. But he had hoped that they were at least still friends, that Derek considered him pack.

Hearing that he didn’t, that it had all been in his head, broke something in him that had always been too fragile to last.

He pressed his hands over his mouth to keep from sobbing. The tears that had welled up, trickled down his face, burning against his skin.

How could Derek have tricked him so? Stiles had thought- he had thought the Alpha trusted him, respected him. If not as a romantic partner then as a friend.

Not a good Beta.

A memory stirred of when Peter had offered him the bite. How foolish he had felt not to have taken it.

Peter had wanted him.

Derek did not.

Never.

The word rang through him like a bell’s chime.

Loud.

Clear.

_Shattering._

He left, then.

Without looking back.

Stiles would never be Derek’s Beta.

Because Derek had just made sure of that.


	2. I may have said it...

_Fear is a reaction, courage a decision._

“But if you bit him, he’d be less- you know- breakable…”

Derek shrugged, hoping that his exterior of not-caring would transfer to Scott and make him drop the topic. No dice, apparently.

He had drowned out Scott’s tirade for the better part of a minute, when some of his words registered in his head.

“He wouldn’t have gotten hurt if he was a wolf!”

Cheap shot.

That was a fucking cheap shot and Scott fucking knew it.

“Don’t!” Derek warned him through clenched teeth. He did not need a reminder of that night. Why on earth Stiles hadn’t called him was beyond him. Derek had really though that Stiles trusted him, that they were each other’s first call, but, apparently, he had been wrong. Turned out, Stiles didn’t trust him enough to call for back-up. And he hadn’t even called after getting hurt. Derek had to hear it from Erica.

From Erica.

He just wanted to reiterate that. Stiles hadn’t even deemed him important enough to give him a call. Or a “hey, not dead by the way.”

Nothing.

“Look. We get that you’re pissed but-” What was it with Scott today? Why on earth were they even still discussing this?

“We?”

“Yeah. We talked about it because-”

“You talked about turning Stiles into a wolf even though all of you know full well that he doesn’t want to be one?”

And suddenly, Scott had swallowed his tongue. His scent turned embarrassed and the sheepish expression on his face spoke volumes.

“He never said…”

“Yes. Yes, he _did_ say. Loudly. Repeatedly. You just never listen!”

He forced himself to breathe. Biting off Scott’s head was not an option. Just, did he even know his best friend? Like at all?

Because Derek could recall a number of occasions where Stiles had stated how glad he was about his human status.

“He doesn’t mean that. He just convinces himself because he wants to belong.”

 _“He does.”_ Derek bit out. His claws had extended involuntarily. He hated the idea of Stiles thinking he wasn’t part of the pack when he so obviously was.

“I know that.”

“Good.” With that, Derek though the conversation to finally have run its course. Wishful thinking, apparently.

In a last-ditch effort to convince Derek, Scott apparently thought it would be a good idea to remind Derek why he was so afraid to turn Stiles into a wolf. Not that him not wanting to be one wasn’t reason enough. But the second Stiles learned to read body signals, Derek would be screwed. 

“You could make a move.”

Make a move?

“What?” His tone held no inflection. But the only thing that saved his pokerface was his being drilled into not displaying any emotions whatsoever. Otherwise, he was sure, his face would have told Scott exactly what his brain was screaming at him. Pure panic. Especially, since Scott had figured out what he was trying desperately to hide.

“You could make a move?” Scott had that constipated look on his face, half confused, half affronted.

“He would be equal to you. You wouldn’t have to worry about breaking him.”

“Get. Out.”

“Derek-”

Derek was done. He grabbed Schott by the collar and dragged him to the door.

“If you ever mention any of this to him, I will rip your heart out of your chest and feed it to the wolves!”

With that, he shoved Scott out and pulled the door close.

He stumped his feet loudly while walking up the stairs. His thoughts were running wild.

As if Derek had ever thought of Stiles as anything but equal. God, that kid had kept him on his toes since forever. This wasn’t about equality. This was about respecting Stiles’ wishes.

Deep inside of him, a voice chimed in. It reminded him of all the times Stiles had called him a monster, an abomination, how he cherished being human and not a mindless animal whenever the full moon came out. Derek knew, rationally, that Stiles had said those things way back when they weren’t even on speaking terms. But the words had stung then and they still hurt now. It was made worse by the fact that his own feelings had gotten caught up in the whirlwind that was Stiles, with his big heart and impossible mouth. And his loyalty. Fuck, Derek admired that loyalty.

Still, Stiles saw him as a friend. A big brother even. There were no moves to be made. It had never been an option and daydreaming about it would not make the fact any easier to bear. And to think, Stiles would be able to smell all those desires and feelings and urges on him if he was turned. Derek would rather rip out his own throat than subject Stiles to unwanted advances and an onslaught of feelings he shouldn’t have to deal with.

No matter how much Derek wanted Stiles to be safe, he would not take the choice out of his hands.

And he would not make Stiles something he didn’t want to be.

Not if he could help it.

* * *

Stiles’ bedroom lay in complete darkness. He had switched off the lights upon entering. Almost in slow-motion, he changed into his pyjamas, fell back against the cushions. His heart was still beating high up in his chest and he didn’t know why. It should have calm down, shouldn’t it?

How could Derek say that?

Derek. Of all people. After everything Derek had always said to his face.

Why would he-

How could he-

Stiles had trusted him, had trusted that, at least Derek didn’t think he wasn’t worth anything. Sure, liked being human, had seen all the ways the wolves had their weak spots. But hearing Derek say that he lacked in so much, that he didn’t want him as a Beta. Stiles had always believed, he was part of the pack, but if Derek didn’t want him as his Beta, what place did he fit then?

He curled in on himself, shivering. The temperature had seemingly dropped. He felt so lonely, so lost. Derek’s words, his voice, it all ran on a loop in his head, mixing with all the things other people had said to him. He flinched, when he lay on his arm, still sore from getting slashed. With tears in his eyes, he cradled it against his chest.

He couldn’t decide what was worse. Knowing that Derek didn’t think he’d make a good Beta or getting hit over the head with the knowledge that Derek didn’t love him. Because if he did, he would have never said that.

Stiles wouldn’t have.

And he still loved him.

How could he still love him?

* * *

When his dad came into the kitchen two days later with a grave face and tired eyes, Stiles’ stomach plummeted.

“What happened?”

“A group of friends. Local teenagers. Went into the woods and didn’t come back home.”

“Why?” he croaked.

“Because their throats were slashed. And I’m guessing it was by that thing you guys have been looking for.”

“Shit.”

“You can say that again.” It was a testimony to how dire the situation was when his father didn’t protest at the curse word.

“We’re trying Dad, I promise,” he felt like he needed to say it, to reassure his father that they were on it.

“I know that, son.” They ate in silence, each caught in his own thoughts.

After dinner and after realising, he couldn’t put it off any more, Stiles went up to his room to call Derek. His every instinct told him not to do it, to just call someone else, but it wasn’t right.

Personal conflicts aside, Derek was the Alpha and he needed to be informed first.

“We have to get rid of it,” Stiles told him after explaining the situation.

“How?”

“I don’t know. Chris’ notes mention, it’s afraid of a wolf’s howl and roosters, but it didn’t say anything about getting rid of it permanently.”

“It hates sunlight.”

“Yeah that too.”

“You think there’s a ritual involved? Like the sacrifice?”

“Could be.”

“Do you-” Derek hesitated “do you want to come over and look through the notes again?”

No. He couldn’t. It was too early, too soon. He needed some time to prepare himself. Knowing what he did, he needed to accept that Derek didn’t love him.

“You can send them to me.”

“Okay.” Derek sounded confused, maybe even a bit upset but then again, Stiles was probably imagining things.

“But I think we need to confront it. Soon.”

“Yes.”

They hung up and Derek sent over the notes he had at home. Stiles, even though, he knew mostly what was in them, read them until his eyes fluttered close and sleep overwhelmed him.

In the morning, after doing a conference call with the entire pack, Stiles prepared some of his weapons. Sure, he had his gun but he also had a pocket knife and a stake laced with a copper tip.

That one had helped them out of quite the miserable situation once when a Nachzehrer had eaten people.

The pack assembled around eight, after a light dinner. Derek led them, focussing on sound and that particular scent. Stiles had to admit how creepy the woods looked from that perspective.

They were hunting and yet it felt like they were prey. 

“Does anybody else get the feeling like were being watched?” Erica whispered on Stiles’ left side. He saw her shiver and look around warily.

Lydia nodded and stepped closer to Jackson, who kept his eyes on the edges of the trees.

“I don’t smell it yet,” Derek said from the front. Stiles could tell from the tension in his shoulders that he, too, felt the presence of someone around them.

“We should go back to the Nemeton, maybe it’s hiding there?” Allison spoke up. She kept her back to the pack and secured them that way.

They reached the tree stump and saw the damage once again. It shouldn’t have shocked them, but it did. Almost as if you forget about something and then were reminded with a hit to the head.

Something rustled to their left and Stiles whipped around. An arm pushed him back and Derek stepped forward, half crouching and with elongated fangs. Stiles pulled out his gun, aimed it where the wolves were staring at. Another rustle and then something stepped out between the bushes that had Stiles flinch.

It looked horrendous, dirty, damaged even. There was hair everywhere, covering its entire body. Stiles had never seen something like that. It crawled more than walked, had long fangs and even longer claws that had a rusty colour like blood. The thing seemed to sniff around and then fell forward in Stiles’ direction. Boyd and Derek put up a wall in front of him, making it impossible for it to reach him.

The thing let out a stream of almost words then and Stiles thought he had picked out something that sounded like “human”. It seemed to have something against Stiles in particular, trying to attack from each side. Stiles noted how fast it was, how strong, when Erica stepped in between them and was hauled to the side. Luckily, she didn’t hurt herself. Derek growled at the thing, probably to make it stop.

It was still circling them, eyes twitching to Allison and Stiles in turn, sometimes straying to Lydia. Stiles was still in surrounded by the pack while the girls were close to Scott, Isaac and Jackson. It seemed as if the pack had collectively decided, Stiles was the weakest link.

He didn’t know how it happened, but he suddenly snapped. Without listening to either Derek or Boyd, Stiles stepped out of the protective circle and stood tall in front of the Drekavats.

“You think I’m scared of you? Ha! As if! You’re just a monster!” he spat out, incredibly furious at being singled out.

“Stiles!” Derek grabbed for him but Stiles shook it off. He felt Scott shift closer to him and away from Allison.

Stiles held onto his gun, ready to shoot when, without any preamble, the thing fell into motion. It was too fast for anyone to react. Stiles felt its claws rip his leg.

Searing pain washed over him and he shot blindly. Derek howled, loud enough for the trees to shake and the thing winced, ran off.

“You okay? Stiles? Are you okay?” Scott frantically pulled him up from where he had sunk onto the ground. Stiles couldn’t stand on his own, feeling shaky and light-headed. He didn’t know why he had done that.

God, he was so stupid.

Fuck.

And now, they had lost the thing again. And it was his fault.

“What was that?” Jackson snapped at him but he did so, while checking Stiles’ leg and helping Scott roll up his jeans.

Stiles didn’t dare look at Derek, fearing what he would say once he did. The girls talked in soft voices somewhere on his left but he couldn’t focus on that. Derek had run off, apparently, to follow the thing. After five minutes of Stiles awkwardly standing with Isaac as a crutch and Scott trying to stop the bleeding, Derek and Boyd came crashing through the woods.

“It’s gone. We lost it near the water.” Boyd said while walking towards Erica. Stiles was about to put some weight on his leg, when Derek was in his face and growling.

“What were you thinking?” Before Stiles could answer, Derek kept going, eyes flashing red.

“This! All of this! It’s exactly why you’re not a wolf! You wouldn’t last a minute when someone pisses you off!” Stiles had no idea how Derek knew that he had been pissed off but then again, he had probably smelled the anger in his blood.

“That’s not-”

“Not what? Not true?”

“Yeah-”

“You couldn’t shut up to save your life! You just had to provoke it. You just couldn’t let me handle it! Do you want it to come after us?”

“It’d do that anyway!”

“So, what? You think that makes it a free-for-all?”

“No.” Stiles didn’t have the energy to argue anymore. Not when Derek’s words still rang in his ears like a goddamn echo.

“Then why do you keep doing this? Like you don’t know better! You keep-”

“It just pissed me off!” Stiles yelled back and cringed when he realised he had just proven Derek’s point.

“Exactly!”

“Whatever…” he hobbled away, ready to just be left alone but Derek wouldn’t have it. He blocked his path and demanded to finish their screaming match.

“You’re not that stupid! Quit behaving like you are.”

“Let me through.”

“No.”

“Let. Me. Through.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong. You’re on edge and I want to know why.”

Stiles refused. He would not tell Derek what he had been witness to. He had his pride.

“I’m not on edge.”

“Lie.”

“Can you fucking stop! You don’t need to call me out for every little half-truth!”

“I’m not calling you out! I just want to know what’s wrong, so I can fix it! Let me fix it!”

Stiles paused.

“You don’t need to fix it. There is nothing that needs fixing.”

“Yes, there is. You’re anxious all the time, it’s like you’re constantly buzzing.”

“Welcome to my brain.” Stiles threw at him, making a grand hand gesture and grinning sarcastically.

“It’s not your ADHD.” Derek snapped at him.

Stiles’ mouth fell shut at Derek’s easy dismissal. How did Derek know, this wasn’t his usual state of constant worry?

“How-”

“Because I know, what you smell like. This is different.”

“Different how?”

“Sad,” Derek spat out and realised in the same second what had just come out of his mouth. As if to regain control of the situation, he continued a little less harshly.

“You smell sad. Beneath the anxiety and the stress and the anger. You’re riled up, but it’s not because you’re pissed off. It’s because you’re sad. And I want to know why.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s none of your goddamn business!” Stiles roared. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks. Stiles watched as Derek’s expression shifted from concerned to point-blank hurt in the span of a second just before a wall came down and his face became unreadable.

Stiles’ stomach plummeted. He hadn’t seen that expression in years. And to think he was responsible for it, when he had tried so hard to be the person Derek could always talk to. His brain was grasping for ideas to salvage the situation.

“Derek-”

Derek stalked to the Camaro, didn’t turn around once. Before sliding in, he snapped at Isaac.

“Isaac. Get in the car.”

Isaac looked as if he wanted to disobey but ultimately seemed to decide it was better to just go along and climbed in as well.

The Camaro sped away.

“Mind telling me what that was?” Lydia had come to stand beside Stiles, giving him something to put his weight onto with a contemplative expression on her face.

When Stiles didn’t answer, she continued “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I just got angry.”

“I’m aware. What I want to know is why. And if you think about yelling that it’s none of my business at me too, you can think again.”

Stiles crossed his arms and stared into the distance.

“What happened between you two?”

“Nothing.”

“Stiles, honey,” she stressed his name, “I’ve seen you angry. This isn’t just anger. This is hurt. Whatever he’s done…”

Stiles didn’t even let her continue, so fed up with himself and Derek and the whole situation. “I wouldn’t be a good Beta.”

“What?” the question had caught Lydia off guard so much so that her mouth had dropped open.

“He said, I wouldn’t make for a good Beta. You know, if he bit me.”

“Why would he bite you?”

“How would I know? Scott was talking to him when I got to the loft. And when he tried to convince him to give me the bite, Derek said that I would never be his Beta.”

“That’s…” but Stiles didn’t get to know what it was because Lydia trailed off.

“What?”

“It’s just odd…” She had gotten that far-away look in her eyes that reminded Stiles of her having a vision. He sincerely hoped that wasn’t it.

“I have to go,” she muttered while walking to the car.

Sure. Just leave, why don’t you?

It’s not like he was having a meltdown here.

Stiles remained on the clearing, lost with himself. He didn’t know what Lydia was up to or how he could ever be in the same room as Derek and not get angry or upset.

A scene like today should not have happened, ever. Stiles should have been more in control, less violent, less angry. He needed to get a grip.

On the way home, one thought kept popping up in his head: Derek had been right. Stiles didn’t have control, he was easily provoked, he did have a temper. But having his flaws displayed like that didn’t make it any better. He couldn’t just flip a switch to keep his calm. And to think that Jackson had mastered it only stung more.

His resolve strengthened when he realised that if the others could master control, so could he. It all came down to training after all, didn’t it? He had practised with Scott and then with Isaac.

He only needed to train how to control himself. Maybe mediate or do some kind of yoga.

Yep, that’s what he was going to do.

* * *

Lydia wasn’t proud to admit to speeding on the way to Scott’s. But, difficult circumstances and all that She just hoped, if someone pulled her over, it would be Parrish. After ten minutes, Scott’s house finally came into view. She nearly burst down the door with how hard she was knocking. Scott ripped it open, confusion clear on his face.

“What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Without giving him an answer, she shouldered past him and took a seat on his living room sofa.

“You talked to Derek.” Statement, not a question.

“Yeah, I mean, you were there?” Of course, her initial statement had been a little unprecise. She should have elaborated.

“No. At his loft. About Stiles.”

“Oh. That. Yeah.” He scratched his head, eyes anywhere but on her.

“We agreed that this would be a last resort.” She said pointedly but without accusation.

They had talked at length about it, simply because everyone could see how badly Derek was in love with Stiles- and the other way around. To ask Stiles if he wanted the bite was only a matter of time, and even Derek knew it. He complained so often about Stiles getting injured that it was the only logical conclusion. Still, this was a delicate matter and should be treated as such. Which is why the pack had agreed not to ask Derek directly unless it became a necessity. And as far as Lydia was concerned, a scratched arm did not fall into that category.

“I know.”

“Then why did you do it? You know how Derek gets when he’s cornered. No wonder, he said all that nonsense about Stiles.”

“Thing is, he wasn’t lying.”

“What?”

“When he said that Stiles wouldn’t make a good Beta and that he’d never be his Beta, he was telling the truth.”

“Because it is. Stiles struggles with control because his brain goes into a frenzy at every small detail.” Scott nodded contemplatively.

“How do you know that by the way?”

“Know what?”

“That I talked to Derek.”

“Stiles heard you.” Scott looked crestfallen. Unsurprisingly. Lydia would feel the same way if it had been Allison that had heard something so horrible about herself because of Lydia.

“Is that why he was so- you know-” he made vague gesture, “snappy today?”

“Apparently.”

“We have to fix this! If I’d have known he would be there, I wouldn’t have said anything. Shit.”

Lydia, while standing up, said “I’ll talk to Derek”. Scott nearly toppled over himself in his haste to stop her.

“No! No, you can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because he’ll bite my head off!”

“Scott-”

“No! You should have seen him when he kicked me out! He was furious!”

“Interesting.”

“No! Not interesting! Scary!”

“Did you say anything else to him?” Lydia asked. She got the impression that Scott had left something out. Because, as much as Derek had his temper, kicking Scott out was a bit dramatic.

“I might have…” he trailed off, scratched his head again, “I might have told him, if he bit Stiles, he could make a move.”

“On Stiles.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re surprised, he wanted you out of the loft.”

“Yeah. I mean, we all know he’s head over heels for him. Why not admit it.”

“Because it’s Derek, Scott.”

“I know that!” he snapped at her, then, a little more calmly “I know that he has this problem with relationships but…”

“No but. There is a reason why none of us talked to him about it. You know Erica has been leaving bread-crumbs for him to find and get used to but that doesn’t mean you can just waltz in and whack him over the head with his feelings.”

“I- didn’t think about that.”

“But I agree with you. We need to fix this. And fast. Because Stiles is on edge and he’s really hurt and Derek is upset because Stiles went off on him.”

“How?”

“I’ll talk to Derek-”

When Scott opened his mouth, undoubtedly to protest, Lydia held up her hand.

“Let me finish.”

She waited until Scott nodded and then continued to lay out her plan.

* * *

Derek had not been prepared for Stiles’ outburst. Last time he had checked, they were on good terms. Or, at least, not bad terms. Maybe it had been indicative that Stiles hadn’t called him when he had gone into the woods with Lydia. But Derek didn’t remember him being upset before that. In fact, now that he thought about it, Stiles had no reason to be upset with him at all.

Sure, there had been that talk with Scott but Stiles had no way of knowing that had happened.

That would have been a catastrophe.

Steps came up the stairs outside of his loft. He smelled the air, already in defensive mode since he knew Isaac was spending time with Scott and the only other person to come over unannounced was Stiles. And he couldn’t see that happening.

Before knuckles rapped on his door, he had identified the scents.

Erica and Lydia.

He bit down on the panic that threatened to take hold of him. Those two rarely ever came bearing good news. He didn’t expect them to today either. And after the conversation with Stiles, he really didn’t know if he could take any more. He had thrown his phone on the couch twice already after trying to call Stiles and then thinking better of it.

“Hey Derek.”

Aaaand this was about to get ugly really fast. Erica only ever used that tone for two reasons: she wanted something or she had fucked something up and was asking him to fix it. Neither one would be good for Derek. And that she had Lydia in tow, well, that could only mean someone was dying.

“What.”

If he put on his gruffy front maybe then they would leave and let him be?

On second thought, Lydia and Erica were not the types to do that.

He settled down on the couch, fully preparing himself to have to bury a body.

“We… we want to talk to you about today,” Erica started, fiddling with her nails, “about Stiles.”

Derek refused to acknowledge that his heart currently beat like he was running a marathon.

What he also refused to acknowledge was that Erica likely heard just that if her pointed gaze was anything to go by.

Great.

He needed a minute to realise that he was supposed to say something.

“What about Stiles?”

Good. At least, he had said that without any inflection.

“He is upset.”

He rolled his eyes. As if that hadn’t been perfectly obvious. Stiles didn’t just yell at people for the fun of it.

“Is that all?”

“No.”

“We’re here to remedy that.”

“How.” Again, not really a question because he didn’t want to sound too interested. Because if he did then they would urge him to do something about his- you know- crush. And if he wanted to do that, he would have already.

“He thinks you don’t-” Erica started but before she finished, she glanced at Lydia. Almost imperceptible but the uncertainty was there. Derek wondered why.

Lydia took over when Erica trailed off completely.

“He got into his head again. About not being good enough.” She hid her lie well, Derek had to admit. But not well enough for him not to have picked up on it. Half-truth, his mind supplied. 

“So?” He didn’t mean for it to sound cruel. He just had no idea what to do about it when Stiles, apparently, didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“So. Maybe you can think of a way to make sure he gets out of this whirlwind of bad thoughts?”

“How do you supposed I do that?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one he’s constantly hanging out with. Figure it out.”

Derek scoffed.

“Something funny?”

“I’m not the one he went on a wild goose chase with in the middle of the night.” That one still hurt more than he wanted to admit. Usually, Derek was the one Stiles went on goose chases with.

Not Lydia.

“Careful, Derek. You sound a little jealous.”

“I’m not-” Erica and Lydia both raised a brow at that.

Okay, maybe he was jealous. Sue him.

This was Stiles and Lydia had had her shot and now Stiles was-

Not his.

Stiles was not his, Derek had to remind himself.

“I know for a fact that he told you, I had a vision and that he was coming to get me. So, there really is no need for being jealous, but go ahead.”

“That’s not-” Derek defended himself before he could think it through.

“That’s not what?” Maybe the truth would speed this conversation along. There certainly was no point in deflection.

“He didn’t call me.”

“So what?”

“He always tells me when he gets hurt.”

He did. Or at least, he used to.

Derek couldn’t bear the thought of that changing.

“And he didn’t this time…” Lydia said without posing it as a question.

“Because you always get angry when he gets hurt!” Erica seemed to have quite the strong opinion on the subject. Derek had no idea why.

“Because it’s unnecessary. He could have called me beforehand, let me handle it.”

“And that’s precisely the point,” Lydia said “he doesn’t want to have to call you for everything. And he is fully capable of doing things on his own.”

“I know that!”

“Then why do you always yell at him when he gets hurt?”

“Because I worry, okay? I-” admitting that wasn’t easy “He doesn’t heal like we do. What if something goes wrong…”

“Is a what if really worth losing him to you?”

The answer to that was as simple as it was short.

“No.”

“Then quit being such an ass about it.”

“Is that why he’s so upset?” He didn’t want to call it furious. That would have scared him. Upset sounded marginally better.

“He’s upset because he thinks you think he isn’t good enough.”

Once more, Derek noticed the half-truth. He just didn’t know if he even wanted to know the real truth. Chance were, they were trying to protect Derek from getting hurt by wording it more strongly. He couldn’t really think of any other reason.

“I don’t think that.”

“We are aware,” Lydia muttered; she sounded exhausted all of a sudden, or maybe annoyed. It was hard to tell sometimes.

“Then why does he think that? I always yell at him but he hasn’t been upset until today.”

“Culmination.”

“What?”

“It culminated. A lot of small instances and when you called him out today, he snapped.”

And that was a bold-faced lie if Derek ever heard one.

“You’re lying to me. Why?”

“We’re not,” Erica quickly jumped in, probably sensing how fast this conversation was about to tank.

“Yes, you are. Tell me the truth.”

“We’re trying to be nice about it,” Lydia snapped at him. And that was the truth. Still, his suspicion had risen.

“It’s because you said that bit about him not having control,” Erica finally relented.

“It cemented what he was already thinking. That you don’t think he’s good enough.”

“Good enough for what?”

They both shrugged.

“Just good enough. You know how he gets. You know he has confidence issues. You called him out when he was already upset…”

Well, if you worded it like that…

Suddenly, Derek felt like an asshole for being on Stiles’ case so often. But then again, he mostly had good reason. Stiles did tend to lose his cool when something pissed him off. Granted, he usually got pissed off if people got hurt. Derek could sympathise with that.

He hadn’t meant to hurt Stiles with his words, though. He had just been angry that the monster had disappeared again and that Stiles had put himself in danger for nothing.

That being said, he could see why Stiles would have been hurt by his words, regardless of his intention. This needed instant fixing. Because Derek would not let Stiles run around thinking Derek didn’t think he was good enough.

* * *

The TV didn’t do anything but aggravate Stiles further. The constant noise that he usually liked to drown out his thoughts only made him more upset today. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t keep himself occupied because the second he started to calm down even a little, his brain went into overdrive and bombarded him with a hundred different loose threads that needed connecting. He tried going through the bestiary to gather information but soon found himself reminded of the situation from this evening.

Fuck.

The book flew across the room.

God, he was such an idiot. His plan had completely backfired. Now, Derek knew something was up and he did not care one ounce for Derek’s explanation or his excuses. He was sure, Derek would come up with a few. And he probably didn’t mean one. Or, even if he did, it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t think Stiles would make a good Beta. No apology could erase that.

His thoughts circled around their conversation while he turned on the video game. Maybe that would calm him down. Just when he was about to start, the doorbell rang. Stiles huffed, a little annoyed. He wanted to mope in peace, goddamnit

“Open up, Stilinski! Or we’re breaking down the door!”

Jackson. Of course. Who else would disturb him after his tantrum if not their resident rage ball.

“Stiles? We brought doughnuts!”

Isaac too?

This was going to be a looooong day. He opened the door maybe a bit too forcefully.

“Doughnuts?” Isaac repeated and held out the box for Stiles to see. They had two chocolate ones. And Stiles loved those. Unfair.

Once in the living room, Stiles motioned for them to sit down on the couch. Their visit had a reason and he was fairly sure he knew what it was.

“Temper, Stilinski, you should control yours.”

Sure. Leave it to Jackson to open with that.

“What he meant to say,” Isaac said and gave Jackson the side-eye “is that we’re worried. Because you never lose your temper like that. And you don’t provoke monsters. Not when it can hurt you.”

“I cope with humour.”

“That wasn’t coping. That was being stupid.”

“Jackson!”

“What? It’s true! He was reckless because he’s pissed off about something Derek did and it makes him act stupid!”

“Thanks a lot,” Stiles mumbled, suddenly a lot less angry and a lot more embarrassed.

“What happened?” Isaac asked. Stiles felt like he detected a knowing undertone but dismissed it. He didn’t think Scott would have told them.

“Nothing. I’m just stressed.”

Jackson harrumphed.

Stiles threw his hands up “Fine! Derek said something to Scott about me and it hurt like hell! Satisfied?”

Jackson huffed “no” and let himself fall back against the cushion.

“What did he say?”

Stiles contemplated putting up a front, dismissing it or trying to lie his way out of this but ultimately decided against it.

“I wouldn’t make a good Beta.”

The silence that followed had something quite deafening.

“And you’re sure you heard him right…” It wasn’t a question Stiles bothered answering.

“Why does it matter?” Jackson piped up. Stiles thought he saw a flash of icy blue in his eyes but it could have been just the light hitting him.

“You don’t want to be a wolf. Why does it matter whether you’d make a good Beta?”

Stiles didn’t correct him. He didn’t want to be a wolf, that much was true, but the reason the pack seemed to think that was not the same Stiles had.

“Because that means Derek thinks I’m not good enough to be a wolf.”

“Maybe he just meant Beta and not wolf in general.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Precisely. A Beta follows orders. You don’t. Like at all.”

“So?”

“He never said you wouldn’t make for a good wolf. He just said Beta. Maybe he thinks you wouldn’t be happy as a Beta because you’d have to follow orders?”

“But-”

“As far as I can see it, you threw a tantrum for nothing.”

Stiles snorted “It hurts, okay? To hear him say that!”

“I know. We’re just trying to help…” Isaac said with his usual gentleness.

“What do you want me to do? I can’t just ignore he said that.”

“Talk to him?”

“And have him trip over himself with guilt and then scramble for apologies that don’t mean a thing because he doesn’t get how it feels when you’re not good enough?”

The crux of the issue, here it was.

“I understand, believe me, I do…” Isaac mumbled from his side. When Stiles turned to look at him it was as if a veil had lifted. Maybe he wasn’t as alone in this as he thought.

“I don’t,” Jackson shrugged “but you shouldn’t feel that way because it’s not true.”

With that, he threw himself out of his seat and stalked into the kitchen under the pretence of getting something to drink.

“I’m not saying you should just forgive him or something but if you don’t want to talk to him, you need to find a way to cope that doesn’t include yelling at him.”

“It’s just- you know, I like him…” Isaac nodded and looked like a golden retriever doing it.

“I won’t tell you, he likes you too because I know, you won’t believe me…”

“ _I_ will,” Jason strolled out of the kitchen with a sneer “I keep telling you to just make a move because he’s so head over heels it’s ridiculous.”

Stiles shrunk in on himself. He didn’t want to go there.

“Can we just not?”

“No. I don’t see why you continue to believe that nobody wants you! That it’s outrageous that someone would be interested!”

Stiles had had it. 

“Look at me!” he yelled “Fucking look at me and then look at you!”

“So, what?”

“Don’t you see?” he exploded “Don’t you see the difference? All of you look like freaking supermodels and I look like this!”

How could they not get it? He had heard it so many times. That people didn’t want to date him. That he wasn’t good looking. Thanks, but no thanks.

“Stiles-”

“No! You have no idea what you’re talking about! All of you! You walk in here with that air of we understand you, Stiles, it’s not that bad, Stiles but you have no idea what it’s like to get told each and every time that you’re not someone worth trying for.”

Once he had finished, he needed a moment to breathe. Isaac and Jackson looked shocked.

“Are we done?”

They nodded, stood without saying anything. Jackson had an expression on his face that Stiles couldn’t read, somewhere between uncomfortable and maybe sad. Isaac still looked shocked.

The door fell close behind them. He should have felt relieved. But that wasn’t what overcame him. He wished they hadn’t come, wished they had left him alone. Maybe Derek hadn’t, in fact, meant it the way it had come across but it still hurt and now he was back in that dark place where he was overwhelmed with self-doubt.

Why had he talked about that again? He should have kept his mouth shut and his feelings to himself. Of course, they wouldn’t understand. How could they? Isaac with his brilliant smiles and blond curls. And Jackson Mr. I’m everybody’s type. They had no idea how it felt to stand in between them, watch them get invited to parties and dates. How, to this day, Stiles hadn’t had a proper date.

How nobody had ever wanted to get to know him and if they had, they had turned heel after a minute because he talked nonsense and was annoying.

Was it that incomprehensible that he didn’t believe Derek would fall for him?

For his skinny, pale, annoying self that nobody ever bothered to look at?

* * *

The phone rang loudly on the nightstand. Stiles, sleep ruffled and only half-awake, felt around for it, missing a few times until he finally could see the display.  
Isaac.

“Do you want to go for lunch?” Not unusual, but hella early. On top of that, Isaac sounded a little frantic. And Stiles had no idea why. But, as curious as he was, his brain didn’t function properly after being woken up like this, so he couldn’t quite make sense of whatever Isaac kept rambling about. The topic, however, wasn’t hard to make out: Scott, most likely. Stiles agreed, while still trying to gather his bearings, to meet Isaac at the diner for lunch. He could use the distraction and as far as he could tell, Isaac was really distraught.

Until then, Stiles managed to clean his room- thank god for stress cleaning- and do bit of research on the Drekavats. It didn’t amount to much but at least, he now knew that a copper stake would not work.

Before he knew it, it was time for lunch. While putting on his jeans, the injury, which Scott had cleaned up quite well, reopened and bled all over his floor. It wasn’t a deep slash, as far as Stiles could tell, but still painful. And unnecessary, if he was being honest. He put a bandage on to stop the bleeding and was careful not to put too much weight on the leg while walking. Maybe, he shouldn’t have driven to the diner, conserving his leg, but since it was just a slash, he didn’t think it would be a problem.

Isaac was waiting outside, leaning against the wall and looking so much like a model that Stiles felt instantly inadequate.

The only thing that dampened that surge of jealousy was the fact that Isaac fell over his own feet while walking towards Stiles. He grinned sheepishly once had righted himself and proceeded to hug Stiles hard enough for his teeth to clack against each other.

“Do you want the shake too? Or just fries?” Stiles asked after they had taken their seats. He knew of Isaac’s sweet tooth and indulged him often enough for Derek-

Nope. Not thinking about that.

“Just fries. I’m not in the mood for shake. Shakes are for happy days…” Whenever Isaac said he was sad with those eyes, Stiles melted against the table cloth. He was just so damn cute and his locks even drooped down like they were in a cartoon.

God.

“Why?” he asked, clamping down on the urge to ruffle Isaac’s hair. It was already fluffy enough without him running his hands through it. And knowing Isaac, the man would complain about Stiles ruining his aesthetic.

“When Scott came home today-” Stiles dearly hoped, he didn’t have that loopy grin on his face when he talked about Derek.

Aaand there it was.

Why on earth couldn’t he go for five minutes without thinking about the Alpha?

“He talked to me about Allison and- you should have seen him- he had that dreamy look and…” Oh, the one Isaac was sporting right now? Yeah, Stiles could imagine.

“You could just tell him. I know for a fact that Allison would be on board.” He did, in fact, know that because she had told him point blank. The only wild card in that budding three-way-relationship was Scott. On the other hand, Scott had been smitten with Isaac from the day they had stumbled over him and Isaac had stared at him out of “crystal-blue eyes”, Scott’s words, not Stiles’.

“Shut up!”

“Nope.” he popped the p just to be obnoxious.

“Scott doesn’t want me!”

“Sure. And the sky’s purple and werewolves are bullshit.”

“Stiles-”

“I’m being serious. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And believe me when I say, I’ve seen that look before. Many, many times.”

“See? It’s nothing special-”

“With Allison,” Stiles continued as if Isaac hadn’t said anything “He looked at Allison like that.”

That shut Isaac right up. He seemed to contemplate, fiddling with the table cloth. His fries were untouched and Stiles stole one without Isaac noticing.

“Also- you’re a wolf. So, you tell me. What do his chemo-signals say?” The blush on Isaac’s face stretched all the way down his neck. Stiles bit back on a snort. If that wasn’t an answer in and on its own, he didn’t know what was.

“What about you then, hm?” Isaac tried to divert Stiles’ attention.

“You’re pining for someone who’s head over heels for you already. And it’s beyond frustrating to watch.” Stiles rolled his eyes, mentally bringing up his wall to keep from thinking about it too much.

“We talked about that already. You know that it’s not true. He’s not-”

“Not what? Desperately in love with you? Because he is!”

“Isaac-” he stressed, “Can we just- like not talk about Derek? I’m really trying to get over him, okay?”

“But that’s what I’m saying. You don’t need to get over him.” Stiles wanted to believe him. And that puppy-dog look didn’t help. But he couldn’t.

“Isaac…”

“No. I’m not dropping this. You’re so adamant to not see what’s right in front of you. I don’t get it.”

“Because he doesn’t want me! How many times do you want me to say it?!?”

“How would you know?”

Isaac flinched when he realised that his words had come out a little harshly.

“I’m not trying to be mean… you’re just- we all can read his chemo signals- the way his pulse quickens when you enter a room and how his heart races when you touch him- I know you can’t hear that but you also don’t believe we’re lying- so, there must be something else because you just- you’re always so damn sure, he doesn’t want you- it’s like you know something no one else does.”

“I-” Stiles was about to deny but ultimately couldn’t bring himself to.

“It's just- what he said to Scott…”

“What about it?”

Stiles fiddled with the fork, eyes glued to the table cloth.

“That I won’t ever be his Beta- it- that hurt..." 

“But it's bullshit! I told you that! It makes no sense that he doesn't want you as his Beta!” Isaac shook his head a violent "no", then continued “you must have heard wrong! That- he would never- that’s just stupid!”

“It’s what he said. I heard him.”

“But-” Before Isaac could launch into a rant, Stiles held up a hand to stop him. In the end, it didn’t really matter, now, did it?

“Can we just- not talk about it?”

His face must have shown an emotion then, something dark and awful because Isaac zipped his mouth shut and didn’t comment on the topic any more. They walked out of the diner after paying for their meals. Stiles refused to think back to the last time he had eaten here with Derek, and how the wolf had insisted on paying. Out of nowhere, someone grabbed Stiles’ shoulder.

He whipped around, years of running with wolves had instilled in him the sense of paranoia, and was suddenly face to face with girl he didn’t recognise.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I- sorry-” she was out of breath, her hair looked like she had touched a life wire and she was covered in sweat. Isaac stepped up besides Stiles, hovering protectively.

“Sorry- I was just- my car- and then- I- oh god, my mum is going to kill me- I’m so sorry- please-”

Isaac caught her attention then and Stiles noticed her stepping back. He dismissed it almost immediately.

“Can you- would you look at my car?” she finally managed to breathe out, biting her fingernails in a seemingly nervous gesture.

“Uh okay?” Stiles glanced back at Isaac, asking for his okay. Isaac motioned for her to lead the way and followed with two feet distance. Maybe he had seen her step back too.

“That’s me,” the car she pointed at was by all means beyond saving. The front had an indent, caused by the streetlamp she had obviously hit.

“I think that’s a bit beyond our level of expertise,” Stiles tried to make light of it.

“Please, can you just have a look at it? Please?” She seemed one minute away from crying and Stiles couldn’t refuse.

They exchanged another glance and then moved towards what was left of the car. Stiles went around it, trying to get a good look at the driver side. When he came back to the front, he saw Isaac on the ground.

In the span of a second, he realised what was going on.

Several alarm bells went off in his head.

He fumbled for his phone but couldn’t find it.

Finally.

He pulled out the phone, finger pressing on the speed dial button with the number one.

And then it was dark.

* * *

Someone shook Stiles awake. He instantly sat up, nearly collapsing from the movement. With trembling fingers, he felt around for an injury on his head but couldn’t find any. At least, he wasn’t concussed.

Slowly, his surroundings morphed into shape. His eyes settled on Isaac and his pale, haggard face.

“Hunters,” Isaac hissed through clenched teeth. He looked worse for wear. Stiles guessed that he had been hit by a dose of wolfsbane. But at least, he was awake. That was good.

“What happened?” Stiles hissed back, trying to figure out where they were.

“The girl,” Isaac whispered while checking Stiles for injuries even though he had done so himself not a minute ago.

“She belongs to them. I don’t know who they are or why they went for us. But this was planned.”

“You are correct,” a voice suddenly popped up from their left. Only now did Stiles realise, they were in a cell.

Great.

“This was planned for quite some time. You see, we had to- how do you say? Scour the premises.”

“Yeah, nobody says that, but go ahead,” Stiles said. He thought he had detected a faint Spanish accent but he could be wrong.

“I would be careful, little fox,” the lady said. It took a moment for the words to register. But when they did, Stiles, reflexively, moved away from the voice.

“Oh, there is no need to look so surprised. We did our research. And you can imagine the interesting things we came across.”

No, no, no.

No.

Shit.

How on earth did they know that?

“The Kanima, such a lovely creature, now a full-fledged wolf. An Alpha that took his strength from his own family. A Banshee. Four Betas, each one strong on their own but lethal as a pack. The female one is quite feisty. The stoic one who’s in love with her. The Beta who’s in love with the huntress. And then there is you…” she pointed at Isaac and it was the first time, Stiles got a good look on her.

“The Beta with the abusive father.”

Isaac flinched back, fangs bared. Stiles reached out, trying to calm him, to keep him here and not let him wander away to that damn freezer. He needed Isaac at full strength.

“And of course, how could I forget: the Nogitsune,” Stiles’ brain short circuited. She seemed to realise how badly he reacted to being called that, smirked and continued “or what’s left of it.”

“Why are you telling us things we already know?” Stiles bit out. He was getting fed up with the Bond-villain tirade already. And sarcasm was always a good way to keep him from thinking too much.

“I simply want you to understand that there is no use in trying to escape. We know who you are, what you are capable of. We have studied your pack for a long time. And that is why we picked you.”

“Oh, so because you think, you can use the Nogitsune for your own agenda. Great plan, Lady, but a few years too late.”

She threw her head back and cackled. It reminded Stiles eerily of Kate. He shivered.

“I do appreciate your humour, I have to say,” she said “But that is not why we picked you.”

“Then why?” Maybe he shouldn’t have asked.

“You see, every pack has its weak spots. We spent a long time determining, it was you.”

Stiles heard Isaac growl. He found his hand then and squeezed.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” he asked. An idea had suddenly occurred to him.

“In the woods, that day when we tried to find that thing. It was you.”

“Smart and funny,” she nodded, almost like she was impressed.

“Who are you?” He had to know. Because they were getting out of here and then they needed to give the pack answers. That was important and he clung to that.

“Marica Cazador.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Of course not.” she didn’t seem offended.

“Now, why don’t you scoot back and let me take your friend with me?”

As if. Stiles would not let anyone take Isaac.

Not bloody likely.

“Stiles-” the growl in Isaac’s voice was a clear warning for Stiles to stay out of it. He ignored him, moved so that Isaac was behind him.

“Oh. Protective. Interesting.” She moved so fast, Stiles had no chance to stop her. He realised what she had done when Isaac lost consciousness behind him. With hands and feet, he tried to shove her away, to grip Isaac’s body and keep him there.

She grinned at him. It was the only warning he got before she kicked him in the stomach. The impact caused him to double over and lose his grip on Isaac. The cell door fell close and he watched her drag him away.

For the next hour, Stiles pressed his hands to his ears to cover the screams that echoed through the room. He had never heard Isaac scream like that. His stomach couldn’t take it. Bile rose in his throat, he threw up.

“Now, now, little fox. Are we sensible?” He knew that voice. It belonged to the girl they had tried to help. Stiles refused to answer.

“Must be hard on you, to hear him scream like that.”

Once more, Isaac howled in pain. Stiles didn’t know if he was glad he couldn’t see it or if he would prefer if he did.

“Ah, here he comes…” she stepped aside to let the other woman throw Isaac back in with Stiles. His eyes were open but lacked any emotion. Stiles had never seen them so empty. It scared him.

He immediately covered Isaac’s body with his own, trying to soothe, to give him the illusion of pack, of warmth. Isaac shivered in his grip, held onto Stiles’ shirt with trembling hands.

“Have a good night,” one of the women threw over their shoulder. Stiles didn’t bother turning around.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into Isaac’s blood drenched curls.

“It’s all gonna be okay. They’ll find us, alright? They always do.”

“Stiles-”

“Don’t talk,” he tried to clean up the mess of blood and sweat that covered Isaac’s face and body. He didn’t know what they had used to inflict so much pain, to damage his skin, to this extent.

“Don’t go with them. Let me handle it,” Isaac brokenly whispered. Stiles almost laughed.

“You’ve done enough. I can take it.”

“Derek would never forgive me if I let them take you. I’m his Beta. I won’t let them do this to you.” Isaac’s sentences were broken up by heavy breaths. Stiles shushed him again.

“I don’t care. I won’t let them take you again.”

Isaac didn’t answer, having finally succumbed to exhaustion.

Stiles held onto him for a long time before he fell asleep.

* * *

True to his words, Isaac had tried to stop Stiles from volunteering. But Stiles had thrown himself at the woman and had refused to back down. In the end, she had simply shrugged and had said “doesn’t matter. If you want it so desperately, who am I to refuse.”

Stiles blacked out when someone took a bat to his knee-caps. A lot of time must have passed because when he was thrown back into the cell, he was fairly sure, it was dark outside. He had caught a glimpse of a window on the way down.

Isaac was on him the second, his body hit the ground. His arms and hands had cuts all over them. His nose was broken and his eyes swollen. He couldn’t breathe right and his arm was standing in the wrong direction. He was sure, he had heard his shin break.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” Isaac kept mumbling. He tried, as Stiles had the night before, to restore as much as he could of Stiles. But, unfortunately, his attempts were not successful. Stiles didn’t heal like Isaac did and now he was paying the price for it.

He had enough strength to ask “for what?” when Isaac wouldn’t stop muttering.

“For not protecting you…” He scoffed. As if Stiles was angry about that.

“You did. Right up until you couldn’t. It’s okay.”

“It’s not, though. You’re human. I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Isaac,” Stiles interrupted him, slowly heaving himself to a sitting position.

“I needed you to heal. Because we’re getting out of here, alright? And we can’t do that, if you’re injured.”

“But what about you?”

“I won’t be able to open the door whether I’m injured or not. But you can.”

“It’s laced with wolfsbane.” They had watched them apply it generously as if to taunt them.

“Tonight. But it won’t be tomorrow. We just have to distract them enough.”

“What?”

“They think we’re the weakest members of the pack. That means, they’re underestimating you. If we can sell it right, they’ll think, it won’t be necessary.”

“How?”

Stiles leaned in as if to put more weight on Isaac and whispered into his ear.

* * *

When morning came, Isaac volunteered himself and was promptly dragged out. Stiles trusted him to play his part. It worked. When Isaac came back way earlier than Stiles last night, he winked barely noticeable. There were stains on his shirt that looked like vomit. Isaac had evidently thrown up on himself- and on the hunters, Stiles dearly hoped.

“Your turn,” the woman pulled him out of the cell and upstairs.

“I still think you’re entirely too chipper,” Marcia said to Stiles after cutting a long line from his shoulder to his arm.

“You think your pack is coming to save you? When you mean nothing to them? You’re human, weak, a burden. They’ll be glad we have taken you off their hands.”

Stiles grinned, blood dripping out of his mouth.

“They’ll come,” he said confidently.

“For him,” Marcia snarled, “they’ll come for him because he belongs to the pack, but tell me, little fox. Who’d come for you?”

The comment hit a little too close to home and Stiles had to remind himself that she was trying to break him. He couldn’t believe a word she said.

While dragging him back, Stiles put up as much of a fight as he could. He managed to rip out a bushel of hair from Marica’s and kick the other woman so hard, she spat blood. They wrangled him into the cell and threw the door shut.

Without lacing the lock with wolfsbane.

On their way back upstairs, Stiles heard them curse in Spanish.

“How are you?” Isaac asked, wincing when Stiles fell to his knees.

“It’s fine. You?”

“All healed.” Immense relief washed over Stiles at those words.

They waited as long as their nerves allowed and then Isaac broke the lock and opened the door. It made no noise, thankfully. Isaac carried most of Stiles’ weight until they reached the window.

Isaac hit it hard enough for it to burst.

While watching Isaac climb through, Stiles had a flash of suspicion run over him. There should be guards, right?

This was a too easy.

Trap.

“Stiles!” Isaac grabbed for his hand to pull him up. But it was too late.

“You don’t want to leave us already, do you?” Marica’s voice cut through the air.

“Stiles!” Isaac’s hand threatened to rip his skin.

“He can still leave. If you let him go now.”

“Don’t you dare,” Isaac hissed, pulling more insistently.

“We’ll get you both, if you leave with him. You slow him down.”

Stiles had made his decision. He glanced back at Isaac, hoping to make him understand with just that one look. He gripped the shard tightly and nodded at Marcia.

“Good choice, now-” but she didn’t come any further because Stiles threw the shard at her. It bought them a second, barely a second, but it was enough. Isaac helped Stiles out of the window and they broke into a run. Stiles felt his leg protest at every step but his fear was overriding any pain he might have felt. Voices were yelling at them and shots rained down but they missed.

Isaac gripped Stiles tightly and continued to run, pulling Stiles with him as fast as he could 

“They’re here! Come on! Stiles! Come on!” Isaac threw his head back then and let loose a howl that mirrored Derek’s so much, it made Stiles’ head spin. The pack, he realised, they must be close.

“Come on! I can hear them!” He had no idea how they had found them so fast or how they could have known they would escape but he didn’t care.

“Derek!” Stiles yelled, hoping against all hope that his voice would help, that Derek was close enough to hear it.

“Almost there! Come on! We have to run!” Isaac pulled him forward, almost dragging him away.

Suddenly, Stiles saw him. Derek, in full Beta-shift ran towards them, Boyd and Scott on his heels. Relief washed over Stiles. He slowed, just a little, let go of Isaac’s hand.

A shot rang through the air.

“Stiles?” Derek came to a halt beside him while Isaac fell into Scott’s arms.

Stiles staggered forward, hands coming up to touch his chest.

“Derek?” he tried to ask but it came out wrong. There was blood in his mouth. He felt his knees hit the ground.

“NO!”

Stiles wanted to complain that Derek was being too loud. Someone rushed past them. Three people with guns.

“We’re on it!” Chris yelled at them and went into the direction of the hunters. Shots were fired but then it was silent again.

Stiles felt cold. He was shivering.

“Derek-” Scott was suddenly there, sounding hysterical. Stiles noticed, Scott’s face was tear-streaked.

“He’s dying- Derek-”

“No! No, he’s not- he’s fine!” Strong hands pressed down on Stiles’ chest. He still couldn’t breathe.

“Derek- you have to-”

“No! I promised-” and now Derek’s voice was breaking. Stiles felt like in a bizarre state of trance, not really there but not gone either.

He must have lost focus for a while, because when he tuned back into the conversation, he heard Scott say something that sounded like “bite”.

“No! You-” Stiles coughed around a mouthful of blood “you can’t! I don’t-”

“I’m sorry,” Derek pressed out, “I’m so sorry. I know you don’t want this! I know, I promised, I wouldn’t do it without your permission, but you’re going to die. Stiles, please!”

“No! I don't want to! You can’t-” he needed air. He couldn’t see anything, vision blurry and blackness seeping in. He couldn’t-

“I’m sorry,” he heard Derek say. Sharp pain exploded in his right arm. He wanted to scream.

But he couldn’t find his voice.

  
  


* * *

Derek knelt on the ground, hovering over Stiles’ body. 

“Did it take?” Scott asked, sounding close to tears again "Derek- did it take!"

Derek didn’t answer. He was shaking, pulling Stiles against him.

Please, he prayed in his head, please work.

He didn’t know what he would do if Stiles didn’t wake up.

“Derek-”

And then Scott went silent. Because he had heard what Derek had heard too.

Stiles’ heart had stopped.


	3. It could be true...

_Oh, but that’s the irony, broken people are not fragile…_

And suddenly, with the force only Stiles’ heart could muster, it started beating again, frantically, like a bird trying to escape its cage.

Derek sobbed around Stiles’ body, buried his head in Stiles’ hair.

“Shit,” Scott’s knees buckled and he let himself fall down, hands reaching for Stiles too.

“Did it take?” Isaac asked from beside him, he was visibly exhausted and barely holding on.

Derek didn’t even hear him, too occupied with holding onto Stiles and making sure he was still there.

“We need to get him to the hospital,” Boyd said from where he was trying to look Isaac over for injuries.

Scott intervened “but if it worked-”

“Doesn’t matter. It was a close call. He was hurt.”

“What about the loft?” Isaac suggested.

“Melissa can look at him?” Erica asked more than said while looking at Scott.

Derek, with trembling hands, managed to lift Stiles off the ground without disturbing him too much. If Stiles were to wake up now, he would panic. And Derek didn’t want that. The whole car ride, Derek cradled Stiles’ head in his hands, whispering into his ear that he was safe.

“You’ll wake up and it’s going to be fine, okay? It’s all going to be okay…” He noticed Scott throwing him glances from the driver’s seat.

“His heart is racing,” Scott mumbled like he was afraid, he would wake up Stiles.

“You think, he’s fighting it?”

Derek shook his head, trying extra carefully to listen to Stiles’ heart beat for anomalies.

“His heart always sounds like that when he’s afraid…”

“What does that mean?”

“I think he’s still-” he swallowed around the lump in his throat, pulled Stiles closer, “he’s still back there. He’s still- in his head-” He couldn’t really explain what he meant to say, so he settled for “he’s panicking.”

“Can you- is there something we can do?”

“Wait…”

Even though, he really didn’t want to. But he needed to hold on, to believe Stiles was going to wake up and be alright.

“The bite- my mother always said, it’s different for everyone. His body doesn’t know what is happening, so it goes into shock and from there…”

“I remember,” Scott whispered. He sounded far gone. Despite being worried Scott could lose control over the car, Derek saw his eyes flick around in the rear-view mirror, evidently paying attention to the road.

They fell into tense silence while listening to Stiles’ heart pick up a pace and slow down again Derek wanted to tell him that he was safe, that he could relax now, but he knew, Stiles couldn’t hear him.

“Almost there,” Scott said. Derek got the impression that Scott was talking more to himself than to Derek.

In the loft, they placed Stiles on Derek’s bed, curtains drawn closed and light dimmed. Scott remembered clearly how intrusive each and every sensation had been, overwhelming. He wanted to spare Stiles from that.

“I’m-” Derek started but trailed off.

“Melissa’s on her way,” Isaac said when he came in with Boyd and Erica. While Derek didn’t leave Stiles’ side, he still asked Isaac if he was alright.

“Good as new. All healed up,” he shrugged but Derek saw the haunted look clearly in his eyes. He felt useless all of a sudden. He had let his Beta get hurt and now Stiles was-

“Did Allison call already?”

“Yeah, the hunters are gone. They lost them somewhere around where we found Isaac and Stiles.” Derek heard them talk and was glad that the hunters were gone but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. Not as long as Stiles was still motionless on his bed.

If only he would open his eyes.

Derek would never forgive himself if Stiles didn’t make it. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the entire incident. How he had gotten worried when Isaac hadn’t shown up in the evening. How someone from the diner had called the sheriff because Roscoe was still in the parking lot. Their scents disappearing into nowhere.

If the sheriff hadn’t put a tracker in each pair of Stiles’ sneakers, they would never have found them. Derek had almost lost it at the sight of Stiles collapsing with a bullet wound in his chest. Time had suddenly slowed to an almost stop when he had watched him fall.

“Derek?” Someone- Lydia?- touched his shoulder. Reflexively, he shied away.

“He’ll wake up.”

“How can you say that?” He asked, not recognising his own voice.

“I would have seen it…” She said with finality and a determination that sounded more like frantic optimism to him. They shared a look and he saw tears in her eyes. He reached out then and squeezed her hand once. Maybe he imagined the soft smile that played around her lips.

“Call us?” She suggested before leaning in to whisper something into Stiles’ ear that Derek tried hard not to listen to.

“You have to make it. I don’t know what to do without you…”

She wiped her eyes and left. Jackson remained in the room for a minute, seemingly lost at what to do, then he wandered over and squeezed Stiles’ shoulder before following Lydia.

“Come on, Batman,” Erica said and ruffled his hair. Boyd simply looked at Stiles and turned away. Isaac, who was still too pale around the nose and wobbly on his legs told Stiles to wake up soon and that he would be waiting in his room.

That left Scott and Derek with only their hopes as company.

Melissa came in and checked up on Stiles but deemed him injury-free after through inspection. Allison, as much as she had wanted to come was still chasing hunters that she couldn’t find with her father.

That left the Sheriff. He had been with Chris and was now on his way to the loft. Derek hoped, Stiles would wake up by the time he arrived. He didn’t want the Sheriff to see Stiles like that. It would rip him apart.

“Why is this taking so long?” Scott asked, voice tight. Derek could smell the nerves on him.

“Because it was…” he made a vague hand gesture, something keeping him from saying it out loud.

“You mean- it was almost-” Scott breathed in and it sounded wet “because it was almost too late…”

The wounds had healed. That meant, the bite had taken. It was only a matter of time. They just had to wait it out.

“Do you think, he’ll be angry?” when it became clear, Derek didn’t know what Scott was talking about, he elaborated “that you bit him?”

“Yes.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’ll need you,” Scott fiddled with the blanket, “when-” he stopped himself “ _once_ he wakes up, he’ll need you. I don’t know if I can- it would be better if you helped him…”

“He won’t want me to…”

“Probably not,” Scott relented, that half-grin on his face that looked so endearing “but you’re the only one he’ll eventually listen to.”

Derek, despite himself, felt the corner of his mouth tick upwards.

“He’ll be-” Scott started, eyes locked on Stiles’ face. Derek couldn’t quite bring himself to follow his gaze and kept his down.

“He’ll be okay, right? He’ll wake up and be okay.”

“You know what it was like for you. You remember…”

“Yeah, but it was different.”

“You didn’t get shot.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“I know- still…”

“He’ll remember. That you didn’t have a choice. He’ll remember, Derek.”

Derek wished he was that sure. He couldn’t help thinking, maybe it would be better if Stiles’ brain had deleted those last few minutes, just so he wouldn’t have to go through all of that horror again.

“He won’t hate you. Not for this,” Scott continued, talking of things Derek was too afraid to even consider.

“I promise…” It wasn’t a lie. Not that it really meant anything but it gave Derek something to hold onto. Belief, endless belief in Stiles and his ability to fix whatever was wrong. That was what Scott had always done and what he would continue to do because this was Stiles, no matter the form he came in. And if there was one thing Scott always believed in, it was Stiles.

Derek wanted to believe that too. That Stiles wouldn’t hate him. That he could be forgiven.

He needed a moment to collect his thoughts, staring at Stiles’ unmoving form made his stomach turn, so, he got up and walked downstairs to get something to drink. Meanwhile, he heard Scott mumble something about washing his face to clear his head. The bathroom door closed softly and Derek, for the first time, felt unobserved. His fingers curled around the glass, restraining himself as to keep from breaking it. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths. The fog in his brain refused to lift, images of Stiles lying on the ground kept overshadowing each rational thought.

He reminded himself, sternly, that Stiles was in his bed, that the bite had taken and his injuries had healed. He pressed a hand against his chest, trying to ease the constricting feeling that had taken hold of him.

He was just about to walk back up the stairs when something crashed audibly on the first floor. He threw himself into motion, racing up as fast as he could.

“Careful!” Scott yelled out for him. Derek had no idea what he meant until he saw the shards of glass sticking out of his carpet.

But that wasn’t what caught his attention and made his stomach plummet.

It was that the bed was empty and the window smashed.

It was that Stiles was gone.

* * *

“How did he do that? Fuck!” Scott walked in circles through the room.

“We were gone for one minute! Shit!” He opened and closed the window twice, incredulous that Stiles had most likely jumped out of it.

“We need to find him! Derek-”

But Derek was still frozen in the doorframe. He felt completely unsettled, useless. A failure.

“We can call his Dad.”

“And say what? That we lost his son?”

The prospect alone…

“But he is new! He’s gonna get hurt! Those hunters are still out there! If they went after him when he was human, they’re gonna come after him now too!”

That gave Derek a pause.

“I’m calling the Sheriff.”

“Derek? I’m almost there-”

“He ran away.”

“What?”

“He woke up and jumped out of the window. We don’t know where he went.”

“You lost my son.” Derek didn’t mistake it for a question. An apology lay on his tongue but he couldn’t bring himself to say it, knowing full well that it wouldn’t change a thing. The only apology the Sheriff needed was Derek bringing his son back home.

“I’ll find him.”

“We still have the tracker.”

“No. No, we don’t,” Scott suddenly said holding up Stiles’ shoes.

“He left his shoes.”

Derek got the impression the Sheriff wanted to curse but couldn’t bring himself to. He shared the sentiment.

“Sometimes, I think, he’s too smart for his own good,” the Sheriff mumbled and Derek could hear him turn the car sharply.

“I’ll drive home and see if he went there,” his voice was perfectly calm even though Derek could sense his anxiety through the phone.

“You two look for him in town and at his usual spots.” Scott was already sending a group text to the pack.

“And Derek-”

“Hm?”

“Bring him home.” Derek was baffled at the gentleness in the Sheriff’s tone. He had been sure there would be threats involved.

“I will. I promise.”

If only he had any idea where to look.

* * *

Beacon Hills at night looked nothing like one imagined. Derek just turned another corner, having gone to an old, unused playground where Stiles sometimes sat on the swings when he wanted to be alone. He hadn’t been there or at his house, not at any diner or in the treehouse he had built with Scott.

There was a cabin in the woods Derek searched and he visited the ruins of the Hale house, hoping against all odds, Stiles would be found. He was further confused by Stiles’ new scent. It had a sharpness to it that Derek wasn’t used to yet. The pillow still smelt faintly of him but the new undertone made the scent hard for him to recognise.

Scott called around midnight, sounding close to tears and telling Derek that he had scoured the entirety of his side of the parameter. Isaac and Allison had apparently helped him look but hadn’t found a trace. Neither Chris nor the Sheriff had heard anything.

Two nights came and went without a word from Stiles. A full moon was approaching and Derek worried himself sick over it. Stiles was newly turned and if he went on a rampage through town and hurt someone, he would never forgive himself.

* * *

Derek came home the night of the full moon, on edge, hairs rising, fangs threatening to pop at every slight inconvenience. He imagined his loft smelling a little different from when he had left but didn’t think anything of it. He threw his keys onto the table and poured himself a glass of water, burying his face in his hands from frustration.

“Quite the Alpha, you are…” he whipped around, craning his neck. Derek was up on his feet and at the light switch in a second. It took his senses a moment, but when he finally realised who it was, it all clicked into place. There, in the half-lit room, Peter leant against the doorframe, nonchalant as you please.

“Letting your newly turned Beta jump out of your own window…” he tsked like Derek was a spoilt child.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asked, ignoring, for the moment, how Peter knew Stiles was missing, yet alone turned.

“I came by to say hello. And, lo and behold, what do I hear? Young Stiles has finally joined the pack,” he made some grand gesture, reminding Derek of a show master about to reveal his new trick.

“Only, not really.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“And I won’t now, so, why don’t we skip the boring part of the investigation and talk about what is relevant right now.”

“What’s that?” Peter threw him a look that let Derek know the redundancy of the question.

“Stiles is missing.”

“Why would you care?” Derek asked, immediately suspicious. If his uncle suddenly appeared out of nowhere and worried about Stiles, there had to be an underlaying motive. He needed to figure out what it was or he wouldn’t have one peaceful minute. Not that he had many of those now anyway. And especially not with Stiles being gone.

“Because, believe it or not, dear nephew,” he did that unsettling thing with his mouth, “I’m rather fond of Stiles.”

He did, in fact, believe that. Stiles had always been Peter’s favourite. Something about his sarcastic humour and quick wit, Derek supposed.

“I can’t help wonder, sometimes, you know.”

“About what?” But Peter continued without acknowledging Derek’s question.

“Did you inherit any of my better qualities or are you really that lost of a cause?” 

“Peter-” he bit out between clenched teeth. He was steadily losing patience the longer Stiles stayed gone.

“No wonder young Stiles fled the nest the second he could walk.”

“If you don’t-”

Peter had the nerve to hold up a hand in front of his mouth and shush him.

“Tststs. I’m trying to help you here. You could be a little more grateful.”

“Grateful?”

“Yes. I’m sure you have grasped the concept by now.”

“Peter, I swear to God-”

“Fine. I may or may not know why your favourite human fled the scenery.”

“Not human!”

“Pardon. Wolf then.”

Derek growled low in his throat, bared his fangs.

“Start talking or get out!”

“He is convinced you don’t want him as a Beta.”

Derek’s world stopped turning for a short second there. Because whatever had just come out of Peter’s mouth must have been a hallucination. There was no other explanation for the nonsense his uncle was spewing.

Even though, on second thought, Derek had never wanted Stiles as a Beta, had he? He wanted Stiles as his partner- an Alpha.

“I offered him the bite too, you know? Early on. He declined, unfortunately. But not before I asked him if he wanted it. And guess what his treacherous little human heart did when he told me no?” Derek’s brain short circuited at the mere idea of Peter being the one to turn Stiles. At sixteen, Stiles would have burned up as a wolf, especially, if Peter had anything to do with it.

“He lied?”

“I wouldn’t say that. It was- let’s say- indecisiveness. A grey zone, if you will.”

“So?”

“So,” Peter mimicked him, “there was a reason, why he hesitated. Yes, he learned how valuable a human in a pack can be and he cherishes that but deep down, there was always that wish to belong. So, let me ask you, dear nephew what other reason could there be for Stiles being so against taking the bite, becoming part of your pack?”

Derek snarled “he was always part of the pack.”

“Beside the point.”

Not really. But he wasn’t about to derail Peter any further from the actual point of the conversation and the only reason his head was still attached to his shoulders.

“Let me enlighten you then,” Leaning in confidentially he stage-whispered, “It’s because you were adamant from the start that Stiles Stilinski would never be your Beta. Something Stiles is well aware of. Which means that he is hiding because _you_ couldn’t be man enough to tell him that the only reason you didn’t want him to be a wolf is that he would smell your desire for him the second he stepped into the loft.”

Derek was shell-shocked. That wasn’t what he had meant at all. He had just wanted Scott out of the house. And to stop Scott from dangling a carrot in front of him that, at the time, he had been convinced, he would never have.

“That wasn’t- it’s not the only reason.”

It wasn’t. Stiles had never wanted to be a wolf because they were abominations, right? It had nothing to do with Derek.

“No? Could have fooled me. Oh, well. Let’s hear it then. What other undoubtedly noble reasons were there for you telling Scott Stiles wouldn’t make a good Beta. A conversation Stiles was present for, by the way, if not for its entirety.”

No.

Fuck, no.

“He was what?” Derek asked, mouth incredibly dry.

“He was there that day. Something your pack conveniently forgot to mention.”

“How would you know?” If Derek could hold onto hope that, despite Peter’s even heartbeat, his uncle was lying, he would. Peter, though, didn’t deem that worth an answer and simply shrugged. Derek was about to rip his head off for being such a goddamn nuisance when Peter crossed his arms and raised a brow.

“So, given all those aggressive smells you’re emitting, I take it, you don’t want to know where Stiles went to?”

Derek stopped dead in the middle of the living room.

“What?”

“I know where he is. I could tell you.”

“What do you want?” Information, and everything else, had a price, Derek had come to know. Especially, if it was Peter offering. In an overdramatised manner Peter held his own chest like he had been shot.

“You wound me. Truly.”

“Tell me.”

“Those hunters that were after you…”

“What about them?”

“They’re after me too.” Derek barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Of course, Peter was involved in this mess somehow. Realisation dawned on him then.

“You want the safety of the pack.”

“Yes.” It wasn’t something that needed mulling over. Peter knew where Stiles was. Derek would probably say yes to anything right now. He felt, he should be glad that Peter was only asking for protection and not his imminent death.

“Fine. Now tell me where he is.”

“I’m shocked, you haven’t figured it out on your own. I thought you were in love with him?”

Derek growled deep in his throat. He let his eyes flash in warning.

“I killed you once, I’ll kill you again.”

“I highly doubt it.”

Derek’s fingers itched to rip his uncle apart but if there was a chance at finding Stiles, he would put up with him.

“You’ll need your keys,” Peter threw over his shoulder while sauntering out of the room like he had all the time in the world.

* * *

“Here?” Derek couldn’t imagine Stiles would come here of all places. But then again, maybe that was exactly the point. The house they were looking at had seen its best of days a long time ago. Nobody lived here and it wasn’t hard to guess why.

“Here.” Peter confirmed. Derek detected an underlying layer of uncertainty, maybe even worry. He opened the door but somehow couldn’t bring himself to get out.

“Go on,” Peter shoved Derek hard enough that he fell out of the car. He barely had time to throw his uncle a scathing glance when the Camaro lurched forward and sped away.

“I’m doing both of you a favour, nephew!” Peter yelled over the roar of the engine. Derek scowled, even though Peter couldn’t see it.

He had no doubt that supposing Stiles was really inside, he had heard them arrive. With clammy fingers, he pressed down the handle of the door and stepped inside. The house looked empty but that strange new smell was here, giving away Stiles’ presence even though Derek couldn’t see him. He felt the influence of the moon but his anxiety about Stiles was currently keeping him grounded. He couldn’t imagine how badly it had to affect Stiles.

“Stiles?” Derek asked into the seemingly empty room.

“Stiles, are you there?” He realised how scared he had been that somehow, despite Peter and his own nose telling him he wasn’t, that Stiles, for some reason, wasn’t there when Stiles suddenly rounded a corner.

“What do you want?” his voice hadn’t changed, Derek noted. Not that he had expected it to. But still.

He liked when Stiles talked.

“You- you left- we were worried…” He felt like a bumbling idiot when confronted with Stiles’ unusual stoic demeanour. The impression disappeared immediately, once Stiles continued to talk.

“I’m fine.” he pressed out. Derek could tell he was aggregated.

“You’re clearly not.”

“How would you know,” came the muttered answer. It sounded bitter and Derek wouldn’t have heard it if nor for his enhanced senses.

“It’s a full moon.”

“So?” Did Stiles not feel the soaring of his own blood? Didn’t the moon have that significant pull over him like he did over Derek?

“Let me help.” He offered, aware that Stiles was shaking, if from the moon or something else, he wasn’t sure.

It had, however, evidently been the wrong thing to say, seeing as Stiles exploded instantly.

“Help? You think I need your help?” Stiles had a grin on his lips that lacked any real emotion. But his voice told Derek all he needed to know.

“Thanks, but no thanks, buddy. I’m good.”

As if to prove his point and put all of Derek’s Betas to shame, he voluntarily and very deliberately let his fangs drop. Derek felt completely blindsided. He didn’t want to admit that he couldn’t believe Stiles had gotten control over himself faster than he had ever seen any bitten wolf do it.

“What the fuck is this?” he whispered, staring at Stiles’ mouth that was still twisted in a sarcastic smirk.

“You mean this?” Completely nonchalantly, Stiles held up his hand and extended his claws. Derek would swear up and down for the rest of his life that his heart didn’t jump when Stiles did it without any more effort than it would have taken him to blink.

“How-”

“How did I do it?” he grinned, inspecting his claws “you do remember who helped Scott when you were lurking outside our windows, right?”

“I didn’t lurk.” He hadn’t. He had just kept a close eye on Stiles and Scott because those two idiots had managed to single-handedly stumble into each and every catastrophe that had unfolded in Beacon Hills.

“Really? That’s your issue?” Stiles’ anger was evidently more easily triggered than normally, under his breath, he added “And you _were_ lurking by the way!”

“I just didn’t think-”

But Stiles didn’t even let him finish that thought.

“Of course not. Why would you. Because I have the control of a five-year-old.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He just would have thought that Stiles, given his tendency to lose focus, would need a little more time to get a grip on himself.

“No? Could’ve fooled me.” The sarcasm was slowly starting to rile up Derek too.

“Why are you so aggressive?”

“Hm, I don’t know. Maybe because you turned me despite your promise not to do it against my will?” It felt like a shot to the chest. Derek reminded himself forcefully that he had had damn good reason to turn Stiles. And if the price for Stiles’ life was him being angry, then Derek would pay it gladly.

“You were going to die!”

“So, what?!”

Derek’s mouth fell shut immediately. Was he being serious? So, what? He couldn’t mean that, could he?

“And you’re one to talk about being aggressive. The first few years I knew you, you ran around with a permanent scowl on your face and now you want to get on my case for being irritated after getting turned against my will because some asshole hunter shot me in the back?!”

“Stiles-”

“No! I’m fucking done! This is ridiculous!”

“Stop.” Derek threw himself in-between Stiles and the door, blocking the entrance. He would not let Stiles leave like this.

“Get out of my way.”

“I just want to talk-”

“I said: get out of my way!” When Derek still didn’t budge, Stiles stormed forward and shoved as hard as he could.

“Stop it! I mean it, Stiles! I don’t want to hurt you, but if you don’t-”

“Then what? Huh? What are you going to do? Throw me against the wall like you did when I was in high school?” Stiles’ laugh held nothing friendly, “Well, let’s go then, Big Guy! Try it!”  
Derek’s eyes narrowed. In the span of a second, he grabbed Stiles by the neck and threw him against the wall, crowding his space, irises turning red.

Upon impact, Stiles’ breath left him. Derek could tell, it hurt. He hadn’t meant to, hated himself for it. But he couldn’t let Stiles continue to do this.

“Don’t taunt me,” Derek hissed, one inch away from Stiles’ face.

“Let go,” Stiles managed to bite out, still struggling against Derek’s grip on him.

“Derek- let go!”

“No.” He would not. No matter, how much Stiles wriggled and fought. He couldn’t let this go, not when something was so evidently wrong.

“I’m serious!”

“No!” Derek’s fingers spasmed around Stiles’ throat. Stiles seemed to realise the warning in it and went stock still. He watched Derek breathe in through his nose, trying to calm himself.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, his anger slowly leaking out, “you’re never like this. I need to know what happened.”

“You turned me.” Stiles scoffed, implying that it was rather obvious why he was so beyond frustrated.

“No. That’s not it. There’s something else…” He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“You’re delusional…”

“No. You bolted the second you had the chance. There has to be a reason. You’re not freaked out about being a wolf.”

“Yes, I am!” Stiles insisted, “I never wanted…”

But Derek interrupted him before he could say anything else “That’s not why you ran away. I know that’s not it,” Derek leaned closer then, trying to convey how serious he was, “just tell me.”

Stiles shook his head.

* * *

The onslaught of thoughts that ran through his head while being pinned to the wall threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn’t find the words, didn’t know how to reveal something like this. But he would be lying if he said that having to hold his silence wasn’t taking a toll on him. A part of him ached to hear that he was wrong, that it didn’t mean anything. Something inside him even hoped Derek would understand, wouldn’t judge.

Maybe that hope was why Derek’s whispered “please” made his resolve crumble.

He blinked up at him, breathing in. He steeled himself and let his eyes change colour.  
Stiles saw the exact moment, Derek realised that the amber he had anticipated was ice blue instead.

“I- don’t understand.”

“Really.” He didn’t bother concealing the sarcasm.

“You didn’t kill anyone.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Funny, you’d say that. So, you don’t remember me going on a killing spree in high school. Hm. Would have thought that’d be a tough one to forget.”

“That wasn’t-”

“What? Me?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Then why are they blue, Derek? Hm? Tell me!”

“Because _you_ think it was!” Derek yelled back at him.

“You think it was your fault. That’s the only reason, why they are blue. It’s not because you’re guilty. It’s because you think you are. There’s a difference,” Derek looked at him like he was trying will the thoughts into Stiles’ head.

“You told me that yourself, remember?” Stiles deflated a little, sagging against the wall.

“That’s not the same…”

“Why?” He couldn’t help but hear a softness in Derek’s voice that hadn’t been there for the last weeks.

“It just is…” There was no explanation he could give to make it make sense. Derek, of all people, should have known, why he would feel like that.

“Mine were blue,” Derek pressed out, like he still feared Stiles would blame him when Stiles had told him a thousand times over how their situations had been different.

“I knew what I was doing. You didn’t. And yet, you tell me I’m not a monster and think yourself one.”

“Derek-”

“No. You said your piece. Let me say mine.” He waited for Stiles to nod before continuing.

“Your eyes are blue because you blame yourself. There is no other reason. Blue eyes don’t mean you’re a bad person, they just mean guilt. That’s all. And you wouldn’t be the Stiles I know if you didn’t blame yourself for something that you had no part in.”

“But I did.”

“The Nogitsune did. You were a passenger. Nothing more.” For a long moment, they stared at each other, caught in this strange momentum on the verge of something neither could name.  
Stiles was the one to break the silence, fighting against the clog in his throat.

“I’m scared…”

“Of what?”

Stiles didn’t know. All he could think of was the fear pooling in his stomach, all those emotions and confusing thoughts. He still was afraid to go to Derek for help after what he had heard. He was afraid to re-integrated himself into a pack of Betas when he didn’t know how. He was afraid of falling short, of not measuring up, of being looked at too closely and being found lacking.

He was afraid to lose Derek forever, once Derek saw, once he realised what Stiles was.

A monster.

One wrong move and Derek, as the Alpha, could kick him out. Wolves needed a pack, couldn’t survive without one. Stiles hated depending on someone else.

“Let me help?” This time, Derek didn’t demand. He asked. And suddenly, that shift made all the difference.

“How?” Stiles was nearing his breaking point. He kept hoping for someone to throw him a lifeline that just wouldn’t come. He had trouble breathing, his chest too tight. Just when he had woken up did his surroundings close in on him. He had had a fairly good handle on his newly enhanced senses but once he let his control slip, even just a fraction, the noises threatened to overwhelm him.

His head felt too small, too tight for all those sensations.

“Focus?” Derek said, stepping forward “focus on me.”

“I can’t...”

“Yes. You can. Come on, Stiles. Focus on me.” Derek’s voice sounded through to him like the eye of the storm. He held onto it with all he had.

“You’ve been doing so well. You learned how to handle it all on your own. You just have to do it again. Find your anchor,” Derek continued to talk to him, holding him upright with his hands.

“You have an anchor, right? You must have…” Stiles nodded, searching his brain for that feeling he knew was there. When he had woken up, he had grasped for that feeling. It had calmed him, had made his heart slow and the image stay in place without moving.

He needed a moment longer to recognise what that feeling had been. And then, finally, it snapped into place.

He saw his dad, smiling at him over a particular good grade.

Then there was Scott with that stupid crooked-grin. Lydia’s lips ticking upwards when she had realised, he could follow her train of thoughts.

Isaac’s bright smile and the excited glint in his eyes when Stiles had hugged him for the first time. There was Erica punching him in the arm after Stiles had brought her ice cream.

Boyd slapping his shoulder when he had shot a tulpa in the head.

Allison, dimples more pronounced than ever after she had pulled him close and had told him, she would look out for Scott, that they could share the responsibility now.

And Jackson, always so angry, had shoved him against the wall and had made him swear on his life to never mention to anyone that he thought Stiles his best friend.

Derek was the last to appear. Every time he had taken Stiles’ side, had made sure Stiles was being listened to, had told him how he believed in him, trusted him.

“That’s it…” the real Derek suddenly said. Stiles realised, he had tuned out there for a second.

“Keep doing it, it’s working.”

“How- how can you tell?”

“You smell less anxious. Your heart’s slowing down.” Stiles recognised the smile in Derek’s voice before blinking his eyes open to see it.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” Derek interrupted sharply, his eyes flickering red briefly. 

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t have to apologise,” Derek hesitated and Stiles asked himself why.

“Not with me.”

Stiles felt himself nod, even though, he didn’t quite know what to do with Derek’s whole demeanour. In the back of his mind, he kept thinking about those words coming out of Derek’s mouth, how scared he had been on the clearing of what would happen if he was turned. And now, Derek was behaving entirely oppositional and Stiles didn’t have a clue what to do with it, what to believe.

He felt lost, somehow. Maybe it was because of the moon, which kept tingling on his skin, maybe it was the earnest way Derek kept looking at him, but he threw himself into what was bothering him like he did anything else: full force.

“Why didn’t you want to turn me?”

The question rang through the room like an echo and he watched how Derek’s eyes widen at the accusation. His heart beat up to his throat, almost painful in its intensity.

“I did. You were the one who begged me not to-” Derek threw himself into an explanation. Stiles appreciated the effort. It made him hope not everything was shattered between them.

“Not on the clearing. Before.”

“You never wanted to be. When I told Scott why they hunt us, you said it yourself: we’re abominations.”

“I didn’t say that. I said that about the Kanima, not about you, Derek. Never about you.”

“Still. You made it perfectly clear that you didn’t want to be a wolf.” He had. It was the only way to accept that he would always be the sidekick in everyone’s story.

“And I really didn’t. But that doesn’t mean, it feels good that you didn’t want me to be your Beta.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then what did you say?”

“I said, I didn’t want to give you the bite because I didn’t think for you, it would be a gift. You _wanted_ to be human, you were good as a human. Erica, Body, Isaac- they all benefitted from it, they had something they didn’t have before. But you- you didn’t need it.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about…”

Derek just continued to look at him.

“I heard you say it. When you talked to Scott, you said I would never be your Beta.”

“I…” he hesitated. Stiles saw the exact moment, he remembered. He prepared himself for the worst, walls drawing up around his heart to protect himself from the inevitable hurt that was about to come.

“Because it would mean you were forced to be with- with the pack…” Stiles was too shocked to react to the slight mishap.

“I never wanted-” Derek huffed “I like that you argue with me. As a Beta, that doesn’t work.”

“What about saying, I wouldn’t make a good Beta?” He asked around the clog in his throat.

“Would you?” Derek shot back, evidently a little agitated by having to discuss all of this.

“I’m not- I’m not trying to be an- an ass about it,” Stiles saw him struggle to express himself.

“You _are_ impatient. You _are_ easily angered. You loathe following orders, especially, if they come from me.”

“Derek-”

“I know- I’m sorry, you heard that. I’m sorry, I said it, but-”

“But it’s true…” Stiles finished for him, heart plummeting.

“I never meant to hurt you.” He wanted to believe Derek so badly, wanted to forgive and forget.

“I know,” he said, lying even to his own ears.

“Do you?” Derek sounded small.

And yet, there was no answer other than “No.”

“Is that, why you ran away?”

Stiles only nodded his head, too hurt to actually speak out.

“You’re still pack. You have always been pack. I just never wanted-”

“You never wanted me as a Beta.” Stiles finished for him.

“No- but Stiles-” Derek as grasping for words but ultimately trailed off.

“What?” Stiles bit out, fighting the urge to run away again. He wanted this conversation to be over, for them to either go their separate ways or talk this out once and for all. But Derek didn’t appear cooperative.

“Nothing.”

“No! I have the right to know! Tell me!”

Derek remained silent. Stiles huffed, turned, and walked away. He barely laid hands on the door handle when Derek suddenly exploded _“I don’t want to make you!”_

“What? Derek- you don’t want to make me do what?”

“Submit.” Stiles stopped dead in his tracks.

“Submit?”

“If you put yourself in danger and I yell at you to stop it, you’ll have to- you know an Alpha can…” He made some vague gesture but didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. Stiles already knew what he wasn’t saying.

“You never wanted to be a wolf. I didn’t want to be the one to make you one.”

Stiles tried with all his might to listen to Derek’s heart beat and determine whether or not he was telling the truth. He found himself unable to. He had, up until now, only ever heard his own heart and to hear Derek’s regular one confused him.

“I know how it came across, but I promise, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Okay.”

“No. It’s not.”

“No,” Stiles agreed.

“Do you want to stay here?” before Stiles could answer, Derek continued “I can get you home. Your dad is worried. Peter took the Camaro but if we walk to the loft, I can drive you from there…”

And with that, it was decided. They walked in silence until Derek asked Stiles why he was still so much in control of himself.

“I don’t know- it’s- I can blend it out, you know? There are always so many things in my head. If I ignore it, it doesn’t- it’s not that bad…”

“I was wrong,” Derek said after a long silence, “I thought, you’d have a hard time because you couldn’t focus. I underestimated you. I’m sorry.”

Stiles didn’t say anything in answer.

He accepted the apology but he still had to fight down the hurt and inequity he had felt.

* * *

“Hi Dad.”

His father sagged into himself when he realised just who was at the door.

“Don’t you dare do this to me again…” he whispered into Stiles’ hair, holding him tightly. The smell that suddenly engulfed him was more than familiar. It was home. He pulled his dad closer, shaking in his embrace. He hadn’t realised how lost he had felt, how abandoned, how much he wanted his dad to be there.

Derek must have left without him noticing because he wasn’t there when Stiles closed the door.

“I made casserole,” his dad said, scratching his head. For the first time since waking up, Stiles laughed.

“You made or you tried?”

“I tried. It’s a little-”

“Yeah, I can smell it…”

And without knowing why, Stiles realised, the mood had shifted to something light and inviting.

* * *

The pack visited him over the course of the week. Of course, Lydia and Jackson each expressed their anger at his having disappeared in their unique way, but, in the end, they both hugged him a little too tightly to keep up their façade of nonchalance. Isaac, to exactly no one’s surprise, nearly fell over himself in his haste to cuddle Stiles.

For a brief moment, it seemed, as if both of them had returned to their shared cell but then Isaac laughed and pulled Stiles closer and the moment vanished. Scott, the first one to come over and the last one to leave, moped about after Stiles beat him in a video game because now their reflexes were equally fast and Stiles was the quicker thinker. Allison simply smiled at him and told him, she was glad he was alright.

“I couldn’t handle them without you…” she whispered. Stiles was about to ask if that meant they were finally working on their three-way relationship but then Scott came into the room and Allison blushed five shades of red. His question, evidently, didn’t need a verbal confirmation.

Erica and Body brought him curly fries. Depending on whom you asked, it was because he was freshly turned or because he was easily manipulated into having favourites. Whatever the case, curly fries were curly fries and Stiles didn’t really care to dissect the reasons for their presence. He was content gossiping with Erica about Allison, Isaac and Scott. Boyd even chimed in every once in a while, nodding his agreement when Erica said “it was about time”.

Stiles didn’t like to admit that he was waiting for Derek to show up too. It took the Alpha the whole week and when he finally appeared in Stiles’ window, he looked torn.

“What happened?” Stiles asked, not even waiting for Derek’s second foot to hit the floor.

“The Drekavats- it’s still killing people.”

“And you kept it from me.”

“Yes,” Derek answered even though they both knew it wasn’t a question.

“But not anymore.”

“No.”

“Why?” It wasn’t like Derek to change course without good reason.

“Because it’s ridiculous.”

“Oh?” You don’t say, buddy, Stiles thought to himself.

“I let Scott run around when he couldn’t control his shift. There is no reason to keep you in the dark when you can.”

“And it took you a week to come to that conclusion?” He couldn’t quite help the sarcastic tone.

“No.” Hm. That was new.

“Then why-”

“I wanted you to have some time off…”

“Oh.” And now, Stiles felt bad. 

“I tried-” he breathed in shakily and only then did Stiles notice the state Derek’s shirt was in.

“You went after it alone.”

“Yes.” Stiles rolled his eyes. How many times did they have to go over this?

“We need to kill it,” Derek said, conviction in his voice.

“How?”

“Shoot it?” More question than answer but Stiles was okay with that.

“You don’t like guns.” He had heard Derek’s sermon about firearms one too many times.

“I don’t like creatures killing people on my property.”

“The forest isn’t your property.”

“Yes, it is. All of this is Hale land.” He looked so solemn that it amused Stiles a little.

“Alright then,” he stood a little taller, rolling his shoulders, “pack meeting.”

“Don’t sound so excited.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything reckless.” But he was brimming with energy to go against something without having to hide behind the others for once.

“Sure.” Stiles didn’t need his senses to tell Derek was being sarcastic. He still hadn’t figured out how to read heartbeats but he was getting better at scents.  
  


* * *

“Why do all those monsters always come out when its darker than my goddamn basement?”

“Quit complaining,” Jackson spat out, evidently just as vexed at having been robbed of his beauty sleep once again.

“Everyone! Quiet!” Derek was steadily losing his temper the longer they were running around without a trace. Stiles had tried to pick up the scent Derek had been talking about but he couldn’t quite catch it.

“Shshsh!” Lydia suddenly stopped and pressed a finger against her lips. The pack froze and waited. Then, almost as if it were waiting to have their full attention, a howl erupted from the middle of the woods. Stiles understood now what Derek had been trying to explain about the howl. Having heard a real wolf howl with his new senses and comparing it to this, the difference was evident.

The pack fell into motion, assembling in their formation as they would have a month back. But this time, Stiles shook off Scott’s protective arm and stepped forward too. Derek looked over his shoulder and Stiles swore he could see him grin.

“There!” Erica yelled and flew off. She launched herself into an attack, backed up by Boyd who immediately went after her.

“Stiles!” Derek made a complicated hand gesture and Stiles nodded. They came up on the side of the fight, exchanging eye-contact. Stiles crouched, saw Derek do the same. The beast threw Erica off.

Boyd turned, distracted.

The creature slashed his arm.

Stiles and Derek charged.

Stiles gripped its hands, holding onto them. Derek snapped at its head. Out of nowhere, Isaac and Scott appeared, backed by arrows flying close. Each wolf held onto a leg, bringing the monster to its knees. Stiles was ready to kill it when it suddenly went still in his grip.

It took a moment to understand what had happened but then he saw Jackson back up. His eyes held a glimmer of blue and his hands were dripping with blood.

“Got it,” he exclaimed and walked closer to Lydia. She rolled his eyes when he asked her for a make-up wipe.

“You okay?” Derek was at Stiles’ side in a minute, not touching him but still close.

“All good. You?” Derek grinned at him, looking younger all of a sudden than he had for some time. He went to see if Erica was alright but she was already standing and brushing off dust.

“You did well,” Isaac flung an arm around Stiles, a megawatt smile on his face. Stiles felt warmth blossom in his chest.

God, this felt fucking good.

“I vote for pizza,” Scott said, patting Jackson on the back and making a beeline for the trees. Stiles let himself fall a little bit behind the rest to walk with Lydia.

“You handled yourself well,” she said while linking their arms together. Stiles was about to say something when they heard threw separate noises.

Something fell close.

A shot rang through the air.

Derek howled.

Stiles felt himself fall into motion when Lydia pushed him to the side so hard, he fell into the bushes. He was about to stand up and ask her what she had been thinking, when the noises caught up to him. That, and the scent.

The air smelled of wolfsbane.

He stayed ducked down, moved as carefully as he could, head low. And then, he saw it. Derek’s leg was in a wolf’s trap and he was bleeding from a bullet wound. Stiles bit his lip bloody to keep from making noise.

His eyes flickered to Isaac. He noticed the flinch that went through him and realised, even before he heard the voice what was happening.

_The hunters were back._


	4. But I never meant it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me and for leaving such encouraging comments. I hope, you enjoy this last chapter and want to apologise for the late upload.

__

_For the strength of the pack is the wolf and the strength of the wolf is the pack._

“What do we have here?” Stiles would remember this voice anywhere. The huntress, the one that had called herself Marcia. Stiles’ stomach immediately revolted against even the idea of seeing that woman again.

“So lovely of you to step right into our trap,” He heard Derek growl, recognising the pain in his voice that he tried desperately to hide from the hunters. But it was there. Plain as day for Stiles.

He stayed low, careful not to make a sound and moved closer so that he could at least see what was going on.

He had to bite his own hand to keep the growl from escaping. Derek’s leg was torn up and not healing, he was white in the face and sweating through his shirt. Stiles saw him tremble with the effort to stand tall. The voices in his head screamed at him to do something, to help his Alpha but the rational part of his brain knew he couldn’t. His best bet, right now, was to stay hidden in the bushes and pray to God or whoever else that the hunters didn’t notice, he was missing.

“You see, we knew you’d be out here. We just had to wait until you showed yourselves…” 

Why wasn’t anyone else moving? 

Stiles could see the pack clearly from where he was ducking down. None of them moved. They all stood straight, like marionettes, watching the group circle Derek. Stiles noticed there were some new faces too. Some male hunters he hadn’t seen before, all with similar features. But there was the girl too, the one that had tricked them.

Anger unfurled in Stiles, blinding like nothing he had felt before. He wanted to rip, to tear apart. Suddenly, he understood what Derek meant when he said the rage was all consuming when it hit.

Meanwhile, the huntress was still monologuing. Stiles hated villains that monologued. 

“It was good riddance anyway. How else would we have weakened you?”

What?

Stiles had zoomed out a bit there, but now he was listening. 

“Such a pity he had to die so young.”

Who was dead?

He wasn’t- oh shit!

They thought, he was dead. 

And suddenly, Stiles had the advantage. Because that meant, if he played his cards well, he had an ace up his sleeve. And a big one at that.

“A well-placed shot, you have to admit and while running too.”

The growl that came from Derek was loud enough to hurt Stiles’ ears.

“Tststs, did we hit a sore spot?”

“I admit, I quite like his mouth. Such a feisty one. And human too.”

Stiles’ heart was racing in his chest. He needed to do something. But what? They had the upper hand, in numbers and weapons. He was freshly bitten, had no real control over himself and his pack was motionless.

Why were they motionless, by the way?

Isaac was almost vibrating at his spot, crouched down but didn’t move. Jackson looked furious but kept still too. This wasn’t normal.

He was about to took another step closer when a hand suddenly closed around his mouth and an arm held him back. Stiles spluttered, almost fell back before his senses registered something familiar.

A scent.

One that he had smelled before but never this strongly.

He turned, careful not to make noise. 

His eyes widened when he saw just who was crouching down beside him.

Peter.

_Thank fuck.  
_

He wasn’t alone in this. With two of them still free, they could take them down.

But Peter gestured for him to stay and listen. And even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he still did it, trusting the other wolf.

“Kaylee here has such special gifts you see…” The huntress pointed at the girl from the restaurant, who looked a little taken aback at suddenly being the centre of attention.

Peter’s face hardened even before Stiles realised what the huntress meant. But it dawned on him, just before she spoke up again.

Witch. 

That girl was a fucking witch.

That was why Isaac hadn’t smelled any danger at the restaurant. 

“We needed to assess your strengths and weaknesses after all. And what did we see?” She gestured towards Derek. 

“We saw an Alpha running after a human boy that can’t walk in a straight line. And a Beta so hung up on another Beta that he can’t see what’s right in front of his nose.”

She snorted and the hunters laughed with her. Stiles felt an impulse of _hurt, maim, kill_ wash over him with frightening potency.

Peter’s hand on his arm held him back. He shook his head but his eyes were burning bright blue.

“We chose our targets and they did what they were supposed to. Ran away like good little pets directly to their owners. Only one reached you though. And the mighty Alpha was distracted. We have done this with many packs. It’s all a matter of finding the weak spots.”

Him. He was the weak spot.

Fair enough.

But Stiles would show them how wrong they were.

They would pay for making that mistake.

Suddenly, Marica waved at Kylee, as if to give an order, Kaylee nodded, lifted her arms and the wolves fell down, one by one. Lydia turned sideways just before the spell hit her, looking right at Stiles. He was shocked to see no fear in her gaze but determination.

“Pack them up!”

There was more movement when the hunters pulled the wolves into a van that was parked not far away. Peter and Stiles followed, still ducked down and without exchanging a word. 

Stiles tried to ask what they should do when Peter- ever the nifty one- sprinted forward and stuck something to the underside of the van.

The van sped away while Peter and Stiles watched. 

“What- what did you put on there?”

“Tracker.”

“How did you even know-”

“I was following you.”

“And you didn’t see them?”

“If you haven’t caught onto it yet- which I highly doubt considering you are the only one of them with half a brain- they have a witch with them. You know what they can do.”

“Oh…” Now, Stiles finally got it. They had used the witch to disguise their scent so that the wolves wouldn’t pick up on it. Which would explain how they followed them that first night in the woods where Stiles had gotten attacked by the Drekavats.

“Precisely.”

“We have to get them out- we have to-” But Peter had seemingly stopped listening. 

“What? What’s going on?”

“We need back-up. A contingency plan.”

“Do you have one?”

“Argent. You father. Melissa.”

“That’s your plan?” Stiles was at his wit’s end “that’s a bullshit plan!”

“Well, if you have a better idea…” Peter raised an eyebrow when Stiles didn’t say anything in return.

“That’s what I thought.”

He turned around and made the call to Chris. Stiles barely listened to it, too caught up in the images his brain threw at him. He couldn’t help feeling like he had missed something. Sure, a witch could be the explanation. But that didn’t explain why Peter was here or how they knew of the Drekavats in the first-

Now wait a goddamn minute. 

Fuck.

“Peter.”

Peter ignored him in favour of typing something into his phone. 

“Peter!” Stiles roared, effectively shocking the older wolf into paying attention.

“Jesus kid, what?”

“It was a ploy.”

“What was a ploy?”

“That- the Drekavats. The whole shebang.”

“I’m… not sure I can follow?” If it were any other day and the situation not this dire, Stiles would have loved the utter confusion on Peter’s face. Especially, since he so rarely got to see it. 

“The Nemeton is cracked because someone committed a crime so violent, it couldn’t handle it. Then, a creature shows up that is the product of a ritual were a child is killed. We try to go up against said creature but hunters are suddenly in our territory. They know who we are, what we can do, who’s the weak spot and who’s not. They capture Isaac and me. When Isaac tries to escape, they let him but me, they wanted to stay put…”

He felt the adrenaline rush through him like a drug.

“I was bait. They wanted Isaac to lead the pack to me, running into a trap with their eyes wide open. But that didn’t work. They shot me, thinking I’m dead and that the pack is grieving. They couldn’t risk us knowing they were back so, they let us go up against the Drekavats, knowing we can’t let it keep killing people. All they have to do is set up some traps they knew we would walk into and wait for the pack to show up.”

“Derek steps into the trap…”

“And they think they won but Lydia realised what was going on and shoved me into the bush before they could see me.”

“I still don’t see what the ploy is about.”

“The Drekavats.”

“What about it?” 

“Do you think it’s just coincidence that the hunters wanted to assess our strengths and dynamic just in time when a monster shows up that was clearly created by magic?”

“The witch. You think, they created the creature to test the pack?”

“Yes.”

Peter, for once, was silent.

“They killed a child to test the pack and call us monsters…” Stiles felt the anger simmering around Peter like a wall of rage. He reached out, unsure of what to do, but wanting to calm him. Before he could do something though, the vacant look in Peter’s eyes vanished and his grin returned full force. 

“Well, the cavalry is on the way and we know their location.” He showed Stiles the blinking signal on the map on his phone. Stiles noted, it was a different location than the one they escaped from last time. 

“And you know what,” Peter added once they reached the car he had parked not far away, “thanks to Lydia’s brilliant mind, they have no idea we’re coming.”

Stiles liked the sound of that.

* * *

The temperature in the room was chilly, Derek noted once he had woken up. His ankles and wrists were shackled to a wall and he had some kind of contraption around his neck that threatened to cut off his airstream if he moved a little to the right.

He really hated hunters.

His eyes scanned the room. A conflicting feeling spread through his stomach when he realised the whole pack was present.

Wait, not the whole pack.

Oh, thank God. 

Stiles wasn’t there.

He remembered then, how Lydia had shoved Stiles to the side just before the hunters had revealed themselves. He made a mental note to buy those expensive shoes she had been raving about.

“Derek?” Isaac spoke up, sounding exhausted but otherwise fine.

“Are you okay?”

Now that he thought about it, his leg was still hurting like hell. He peered down. 

Shit, his leg was a mess. 

The trap must have severed the skin severely, blood stains covered his jeans. The spikes must have been laced seeing as the wound wasn’t healing.

“It’s not healing.”

“Shit.”

He couldn’t agree more.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Derek saw Jackson jerk awake.

“Fuck! Where are we?”

“Basement, I think.” Boyd spoke up. Derek couldn’t agree more. It certainly smelled like they were on an underground level.

“Can anyone move?” Scott was awake too, it seemed, if the rattling of shackles was anything to go by.

“Nope,” Isaac, having tried to loosen his bonds, remarked. 

“What do you think, they’re going to do?” Lydia didn’t sound particularly scared but Derek heard the way her heart sped up every now and then. He wished, he could reassure her that they would be okay but he didn’t want to insult her intelligence by lying to her.

“Is everyone okay?” Erica’s voice came from the far back and Derek detected a hint of worry in it.

They each assured each other that not harm had been done to them, apart from Derek’s torn up leg. But that only strengthened Derek’s suspicion that they were in for a long night, seeing as the hunters wouldn’t just keep them chained up in their basement for nothing. They wanted something from the pack. And Derek was sure he didn’t want to know what it was.

Not that he had a choice in the matter. 

Because just then, a door swung open and revealed the huntress that was obviously the leader of their little ring. Derek noted this seemed to be a matriarchal family.

“Now, who wants to come with me for a little questioning?”

Why would they want to question them? If they knew all about the pack there was no need for questions. But if that was why they were still alive, Derek would take it.

“Let’s start with you.” Seven heads turned to Allison. Derek saw her straighten, her heart suddenly ten times faster than normal, but her face impassive. He tried to catch her gaze and when he did, she smiled reassuringly at him.

Not that it worked to reassure him.

“What- what do you think they are doing with her?” Scott asked, sounding scared. Derek didn’t blame him. If it were Stiles-

Nope. 

Stiles was safe. There was no need to go there and freak himself out. He needed to keep his head in the game. 

“Question her. She’s human,” Boyd said from where he was standing shackled to the wall. Derek saw Scott’s shoulders relax a little. 

It irked him that the room, apparently, was sound proof. They couldn’t hear a thing beside their own voices.

“What about? What is there, they don’t already know…” Lydia asked no one in particular. She seemed deep in thoughts about something.

“Maybe they want to know something about the pack…”

“But what? What is there that they don’t know?”

“I have no idea. And I don’t care!” Jackson spat out. Derek saw him pull violently at the shackles like pure strength could free him.

“You’re only gonna hurt yourself,” Isaac said softly. It seemed to work. At least, Jackson didn’t attempt to rip out his own arm anymore.

“We need to get out of here…” Derek agreed with Erica on that, but didn’t have any idea how to accomplish that.

Tense silence fell over them while they waited for Allison’s return. Derek didn’t know how long it took for her to come back, but when she did, Scott’s sigh was so clearly audible, Isaac coughed loudly to cover it up. If they figured how much the wait had unsettled the pack, they would use that to their advantage even more.

“Who’s next, who’s next…” this time, it was a male hunter. Derek thought he saw a resemblance in the facial features. Son, maybe?

“What about you, hm? You’d look pretty on a chopping block…” To Derek’s horror, he walked towards Isaac, keys in hand. 

“No. No, he doesn’t know anything…” Scott suddenly yelled. 

“You can take me.” And now, the whole pack- Isaac included- was stunned. Derek had not seen Scott this desperate since- well, since probably ever. He shared a glance with Boyd who shrugged as much as he could in his chains.

“Fine. Doesn’t matter to me anyway,” the hunter changed course and took Scott with him. Isaac stared at the door for an entire minute without even blinking.

“He doesn’t want you to get hurt again,” Allison said with a kind smile. 

“But- but he didn’t do it for you…”

“It’s different. You were there before. He- you’ve been hurt so much already. I can take it. He knows that…”

“I can take it!”

“That’s not the point.”

“What even happened up there? What did you see?”

“Hallways. We’re in a warehouse, I think. They just questioned me. I think, it’s because I’m human they didn’t bring out the big guns yet.” She stared at the ground, suddenly aware what that could mean for Scott.

“What did they want?”

“They wanted to know about Peter.”

“Peter?”

“Yes. They know he’s out there and they want the whole pack.”

“Why didn’t they kill you?” Jackson asked. Silence followed where Erica and Boyd both turned away, uncomfortable with the subject. Jackson sighed. 

“I’m not being rude. I just want to know. Because it doesn’t make sense.”

Allison took a moment to reflect, then she said “Because they know, if they kill us now, they won’t get any answers. But if we see that people are coming back, we’re more likely to talk.”

“But once they realise, we don’t actually know anything...”

“We don’t have much time then,” Derek concluded, adrenaline level steadily rising “If they question each of us, we need to have a plan for the time, they take the last one.”

“Do you think-” Lydia hesitated “do you think Stiles…”

“We can’t rely on him to get us out.”

“But do you think, he’s alright?”

“Yes.” If he said it with enough conviction, surely it would be true.

Right? 

“So, what’s the plan?” Erica, per usual, was rearing to go even chained to the wall. Derek admired her for it. 

What’s the plan indeed.

* * *

Nail biting was not attractive, Stiles was quite aware. However, since his nails would grow back in the span of a second, considering his new status, he didn’t feel as bad about it as he probably should. A nervous habit was a nervous habit after all. 

“Why are you here by the way?” He asked Peter, still inspecting the damage he had done to his nails. 

“He’s my nephew. And as much as we have our differences, I will not let him be killed by some overconfident hunters.” 

“And they’re after you…” Derek had told him on the way back home. He had explained how Peter wanted the safety of the pack in return for his help finding Stiles. 

“That too.”

“You think we have a shot?” Asking wasn’t easy, especially, considering whom he was sharing the car with.

“I didn’t know you were such a pessimist. But then again, Derek does rub off on people.”

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

Peter sighed. Stiles noticed his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel when his fingers tightened. 

“Do you think I would voluntarily walk into my own demise to save my nephew?” 

“No.”

Peter nodded as if to say: there you go. The rest of the ride, they both spent in silence. When they stepped out of the car not far from the warehouse the pack should be held at, Stiles spotted his dad’s cruiser. Chris arrived in his car not a minute later with Melissa and seemingly the whole weapon arsenal from the Argent’s basement. He handed Stiles a gun, ignoring the Sheriff’s raised eyebrow.

The hunters had not put up any additional safety measures, apart from guards at every door. Peter entered through a window. Stiles heard something snap and realised, he must have killed a guard patrolling there. It went against pack rules, but Stiles was not about to comment on that. He climbed the wall, suddenly eternally grateful for his new abilities and heaved Chris, Melissa and his dad up as well.

“Where do you think they are?” Stiles whispered, softly enough that not even Chris, who was watching the hallways, heard him. Peter motioned downwards.

There was an unsettling lack of hunters blocking their path. Only two women guarded a large door in the basement, which sealed, Stiles presumed, the room the pack was kept in.

Chris, with some instrument Stiles didn’t want to look too closely at, opened the door and stepped inside.

“Dad?”

Stiles was in the room in the span of a second once he recognised the voice as Allison’s. 

“Stiles!” Stiles’ eyes snapped to Derek, shackled to the wall, his leg a bloody stump and his face too pale for comfort. He quickly ran over to Derek, relief and worry fighting for dominance in his brain.

“Are you alright?” Derek croaked out and Stiles almost laughed. Derek was asking him if he was alright? Did he forget, he was the one in chains? 

Stiles shook his head, chuckled while freeing Derek from the shackle around his wrists and the one on his neck.

He dropped down to open the one around Derek’s ankle as well when his next sentence got stuck in his throat. He had barely pulled up Derek’s jeans when he saw the damage the trap had done.

His stomach turned.

“Derek-”

“Just get it open, Stiles.”

“But-”

“Do it.”

The exact moment Stiles opened the shackle, Derek fell forward. Stiles barely had time to grip him around the waist and steady him before his weight would have made both of them fall over. 

“Sorry,” Derek pressed out between his teeth, “didn’t think- hurts-”

Stiles had to stop himself from wolfing out after hearing Derek admit that he was in pain. 

“Come on,” he said instead “we’ll get you to the cruiser and Melissa can look at it…”

“We need- Scott- we need to find Scott…” Derek mumbled, his face losing all its colour when he put weight on the injured leg.

“What do you- _find_ Scott?” Stiles’ head whipped around, scanning the room. He stopped at Allison, saw the expression on her face and immediately knew what was going on.

“They took him?”

“For questioning.”

“Dad- Dad can you- come help me?” His father was by his side and steadying Derek instead of Stiles.

“Where did they take you?” Chris’ whole body was vibrating with anger after having discovered that Allison had been taken in first. 

Allison waved for the rest to follow her and went up the stairs. Stiles noticed, she was trembling a little.

In his head he kept seeing scenarios that made him want to vomit. He needed to get to Scott, to save him. And he didn’t want him in the company of those hunters for even a minute longer.

“HEY!” before the hunter had spotted them could get out another word, Peter had shot him clear in the head. He fell down like a bag of rice, blood splattering the walls. 

The whole pack stared in horror at the unmoving form.

“Well, if you’d rather he shot you?” Peter said, nonchalant as you please, and stepped over him.

He mumbled a “didn’t think so” when the rest of the pack followed him wordlessly. Stiles shot his dad a worried glance but saw nothing but concentration on his face. He knew then, how dire the situation was, when not even the Sheriff protested against Peter’s methods.

They reached the first floor without another incident. Stiles briefly wondered once again how their safety measures were so lax but then again, they did think the pack was more or less all safely stored in their basement.

Suddenly, and with the force to make the walls shake, a howl erupted from the end of the hallway.

Stiles would have known this howl anywhere.

_Scott._

They fell into a run, Boyd kicking open the door. Surprise was on their side. They entered while the hunters dove for their weapons. Stiles’ eyes immediately went to Scott. He blanched.

There was so much blood.

Before Stiles could move, shots started being fired all around them. The pack searched for cover. Stiles and Derek hid behind a metal table Derek had managed to flip. They heard Chris fire his gun. Two hunters fell while gunfire still rained down on them. Then, a pause, a little too long for the hunters to stop the wolves from attacking. Stiles tore at the huntress that was closest to him.

“The witch!” Peter yelled. Stiles turned, confused what Peter meant and saw Erica and Boyd charge at Kaylee. The witch threw magic around like it was nothing, hitting Boyd who went down.

Erica, though, was faster.

She reached the witch and snapped her neck with a sickening crack.

Boyd set up, coughing.

Time returned to normal speed then and Stiles threw himself into the fight. He was attacked by Marcia then, holding a dagger. She sliced into his shirt but didn’t tear his skin.

“Stiles!” Lydia yelled out for him. He ran to her, Marica hot on his heels and a mad look in her eyes. Lydia was kneeling besides Scott, trying to stop the bleeding. Stiles slithered to a halt beside her.

He had no time to yell at her to duck when a girl he hadn’t seen before pulled out a gun and aimed at Lydia. Stiles had one second to act. He shoved Lydia to the side, putting himself in harm’s way. The bullet hit his shoulder. 

It burned like hell. But the bullet was just a bullet and Lydia was alive that was all that mattered. Somehow, Melissa had made it to them and was gesturing at Lydia to let her help. Stiles backed them, still fighting Marica at his end. She smirked at him before pulling something out of her bag and throwing it at him.

He recognised the smell.

And his lights went out.

* * *

Derek was still cowering behind the table like a goddamn idiot when Stiles went off to help Lydia. He saw how Stiles took a shot but kept standing. Half agonised half impressed, he watched Stiles fight and protect at the same time.

And then, it happened.

Those eyes, the ones he had never found as horrendous as Stiles made them out to be, they turned colour. Just when he realised, he had saved Lydia, his eyes burned pure gold.

Derek had never seen it before. He heard Peter gasp from his left and knew, he had seen it too. They would have to talk about this before breaking it to Stiles. He didn’t want to give him false hope. But then again, wasn’t it obvious? 

Stiles’ eyes reflected his feelings, if he felt guilty, they shone blue, if he saved someone, they glowed golden.

All those thoughts happened in the span of a second it took for Stiles to turn back to Marica.

Stiles returned to the fight and the golden light vanished, slowly seeping back to blue. Derek was shell shocked, so utterly baffled that he couldn’t warn Stiles in time before the wolfsbane hit him square in the face. 

He fell over, unconscious.

Derek howled, heaving himself up off the ground. He could barely put weight on his leg but still managed to rip apart one hunter in his way. With a last surge of strength, he crossed the room and sunk down beside Stiles.

He tried wiping away the wolfsbane with his shirt but couldn’t. Only when Melissa shoved a bottle of something or other at him, did the poisonous dust disappear. Stiles didn’t sit up though.

Derek knew, this could take some time.

“Ha!” He heard Jackson exclaim and watched as the last hunter fell down, neck broken. He felt his breath returning to him. Finally. Now, they could take care of Stiles and Scott. Melissa was already sitting the latter up. He had a dopey smile on his face that made Derek chuckle wetly.

Thank fuck.

Chris worked on Stiles shoulder, extracting the bullet. They all breathed a sigh of relief when they realised, the bullet was just a regular one. 

“I’ll bring him home. He should sleep it off,” the Sheriff said and proceeded to pick up his son. Derek wanted to accompany him but wasn’t sure, he was allowed. So, instead, he watched as they drove away, already planning on checking up on Stiles later.

* * *

“Jesus fuck! Can’t you- for once- announce your presence and not linger on my window still like a fucking creeper?” Stiles had had it today. Really. He was so, so tired of all of this. And Derek really should announce his presence. 

“I wasn’t exactly quiet…”

“So?”

“You should have heard me come in.”

“Excuse me for not being prepared for a hearing test in the middle of the night after I got showered with a full dose of wolfsbane!” 

“Sorry?”

“You better be.” On second thought “Why are you here, by the way?”

“I wanted to see if you were…” Derek made a hand gesture that was supposedly his version of an explanation and failed spectacularly at it. Lucky for him, Stiles could still understand what he wasn’t saying. He’d known the guy for such a long time that he could read him like a book. Most of the time anyway. 

“If I was freaking out?”

“If you were okay.” Same difference as far as Stiles was concerned. 

“Peachy.”

“Stiles.”

“What do you think saying my name like that will accomplish exactly? Is it some sort of secret message that I’m supposed to pick out through intonation?”

“Stiles.”

“See? Always with that growly name calling.”

Derek rolled his eyes once he figured out that Stiles wasn’t really angry at him.

“You’re just not gonna talk at all?”

“Do you want me to talk?”

“Uhm yes? Sitting there and staring at me without saying a word is a bit uncomfortable.”

“Okay.”

“Great,” this was the moment they both realised that Stiles’ upper body was in fact naked. 

“I’m- I’m just gonna…” he waved at the door to signal he would leave to change into his pyjama. There was no way he would expose himself any more if it wasn’t strictly necessary, especially seeing as Derek’s eyes seemed glued to the slivers of skin visible between the pieces of fabric Stiles was clinging to. He turned around to walk out when two strong hands stopped him. Derek was so close, he was breathing down his neck, growling into his ear.

“Derek? What- what are you doing?” He suppressed a shiver that threatened to tell Derek exactly what his body wanted to do right now. 

Derek, though, was obviously not interested in talking. Instead, his fingers travelled over Stiles’ shoulders in a soft caress that felt like someone hat poured hot wax all over him.

“Derek- seriously- _what_ are you doing?”

“When did you get this?” Derek’s finger grazed the scar that reached from Stiles’ neck to his shoulder. Stiles shied back. 

“What?” his breath got stuck in his throat somewhere and the pleasant feeling from before had vanished with a wave of ice-cold dread.

Derek mumbled something that Stiles couldn’t quite pick up. The only word that rang through to him- with a volume louder than a crashing truck- was “scars”. He whipped around and shoved at Derek so hard, the Alpha- completely unprepared- flew back. Stiles felt blindsided, ashamed and angry all at once.

“What did you expect, huh? That they’d vanish too just like the rest of me?” he bit out.

“No.”

“Then what’s with the look?”

“I haven’t-”

“What?!?” he was getting really irritated by now.

“I haven’t seen them…”

“What do you mean? You were there for ninety percent of them.”

“I saw the wound. I didn’t see the scar.”

“So, what? What did you think happened after, hm? Did you think they’d conveniently disappear?” 

“No.”

“Then what is it? Why do you keep looking at me like I’m broken!” The last one should have been a question but Stiles threw it at Derek with such force, it came out more of an accusation. 

“You’re not broken,” Derek mumbled, looking out of place, distraught. Stiles had nothing to add to that. He huffed, turned around and rummaged through his drawer. He would take any shirt right now. Anything to cover himself with. He didn’t want to have this conversation.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hu?”

“I didn’t realise…”

“What? What was there to realise? That shoving my nose against a steering wheel would hurt? That I’d scar after having my chest sliced in half? That getting shot, stabbed, hit, punched, electrocuted and tortured wouldn’t do anything to me?” his voice had taken on a hysterical tone. 

“Fuck Derek! Did it ever occur to you that I’m human?” 

Derek stopped dead in his tracks. 

“What? What did I say now?” He was so, so done with this shit. God, he just wanted to be left alone. 

“You’re not.”

“I’m not what?”

“You’re not human, Stiles.”

He froze, bit out “I know that!”

He kept muttering to himself, pulling at his own hair. He knew that, of course. How could he have been so stupid. It was just a slip up, a stupid slip up. It didn’t mean anything. He knew, he wasn’t human anymore.

Stupid. 

But Derek didn’t pay attention, he kept staring at Stiles as if there was something he didn’t understand.

“Stop fucking staring at me!” But Derek just didn’t. And Stiles couldn’t do this anymore.

“I’m serious! Stop it! I don’t want you looking at me, it’s embarrassing!”

Derek looked like he wanted to protest but then his usual scowl fell in place like a well-practised mask and every trace of emotion that might have lurked there had vanished. Before Stiles had time to rethink his entire existence and then some, Derek turned around and leapt out of the window. 

Stiles didn’t know what to think about that. Sure, he had wanted to stop the conversation from happening, but at the price of Derek leaving? Not so much.

For a brief moment, he contemplated calling Lydia but decided against it. He felt stupid enough without having her remind him.

Scott then. 

Or rather not. If Allison’s dimpled smile was anything to go by, Isaac and Scott would both be busy right now. Stiles couldn’t really fault them. If he had the opportunity to be snogged silly by someone like Allison- or Isaac by extension- he sure as hell wouldn’t pick up either.

Interrupting Erica and Boyd after that traumatic of an experience- and considering how Boyd had held her up all the way to the car- Stiles couldn’t bring himself to interrupt.

But there _was_ someone he could call, wasn’t there? 

“Hey…” okay, so, maybe he should have thought that one through a little more thoroughly. Because if there was one thing Jackson hated it was beating around the bush. Which was what Stiles was doing.

“I swear to God, Stilinski. If this is about the dying of tuna again, I will personally-”

Stiles interrupted him before he could finish his threat. And this time, he led with the most prominent point on his mind.

“I think, I pissed off Derek again.” The other end of the call was borderline silent for more than a minute. Stiles would have worried if not for the sound of Jackson sighing. He could almost picture him pinching his nose in annoyance.

“Seriously…” Jackson muttered before getting louder “What did you do this time?” 

Aware of how this would sound without any context, Stiles still proceeded with his recapitulation of the last minutes. 

“And then I yelled at him to stop staring at me.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“What?”

“Him staring at you.”

“You didn’t see-”

“Thank fuck for that. And I don’t need to see to know that whatever you think you saw, it was probably ninety percent your imagination running wild because Derek stares at you all the time and it was never even close to pity…” he sighed “but go ahead. Assume the worst. Since it works so well for you and all…”

“Jackson!”

“No! I’m sick of this. You want to have your blinders on then fine! Go the fuck ahead! I didn’t know you were actively boycotting your own happiness! Because if I had, it would have saved me a whole lot of time!” Stiles had to hold the phone away from his ear with the volume Jackson was yelling at.

“Either you get over yourself and talk it out or you get yourself together and move on! Either way is fine with me! I won’t have that in-between and those stupid half-truths and the purposefully misunderstanding anymore! If you wanna do that, fine! Be my guest! But then you’re on your fucking own!”

“I don’t know how…”

“How to what?”

“Everything. It feels like- I know, he doesn’t hate me, okay? I’m not stupid. But- but he keeps saying and doing those things and I just can’t- I can’t. With Lydia, it hurt, okay? But I don’t know what to do if- if he’d tell me-” he had to actively breath to keep himself from panicking “if he rejected me. I don’t know what I would do. I don’t know if I can handle it. And I know-” he was trembling, fighting to keep the tears from spilling “I know I’m a coward, alright? I know. I just- all those times someone told me they didn’t want me, that I wasn’t even worth trying for- I keep hearing it…”

“Stiles…”

“No. Please. Don’t say it.”

“But you are. And if he’s too stupid to see it then it’s his loss.”

“But-”

“No. You listen to me, Stilinski. I know, we had a rough start and all that. And it’s gonna be your funeral if you ever tell anyone I said any of what I’m about to say. But I value you. As a friend. And I would be lying if I said, I never thought you were attractive before. Because I have. I know for a fact, Isaac has too. And Lydia. Even though, she doesn’t like to admit it.”

“Jackson-”

“I’m not done. They all thought, you were attractive. Erica basically crushed on you for an entire year before all of this shit broke loose. Not that you would notice. And Derek-” he heard Jackson breathe in deeply.

“Derek _likes_ you. I don’t remember a time when he didn’t. You just conveniently ignored every sign that would tell you otherwise. He never- when you were in the room, his heart always sped up. Even in the beginning. I know, because I kept listening for it. Because I was so confused, why he would be interested in you when Scott was his Beta. It didn’t make sense. Why you? And I thought, if I figured it out, I could benefit from it. Get an advantage with him somehow. And then he kept coming through your window. He never does that with anyone else, you know? Never. He comes to you. Always. You’re his priority. I don’t remember when you weren’t.”

“Because I was human.” Stiles said knowingly. But Jackson wouldn’t have it.

“Because you’re important. To him. Is that really so hard to believe?” No. Not really. But there was still this nagging feeling of fear inside him.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.

“Why don’t you just do all of us- you two idiots included- a favour and talk to him?”

“I’ll try,” Stiles found himself saying, sudden determination lighting up his veins, “I will…”

* * *

The drive was both longer and short than Stiles remembered. He didn’t really know where his courage had come from only knew that he had to rectify whatever he had fucked up yesterday. Clearly, pushing Derek away had been the wrong move. It was just- the scars were a sore topic. He wasn’t comfortable how the littered his skin. Having Derek stare at them, touch, trace them had thrown something dark and nasty inside of him for a loop.

He manged the stairs with a racing heart, opened the door to find Derek already waiting for him.

“Stiles.”

“Last night- I didn’t mean to push you away.”

“It’s alright.”

“No. It’s not. I didn’t mean-”

“I said,” Derek bit out before visibly calming himself “it’s alright! I don’t need an explanation.” Stiles suddenly became aware of the tension in Derek’s jaw, how his shoulders were sent and his gaze averted.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Derek-”

But Derek simply turned around and walked towards the stairs. 

“Please-” At least, it made Derek stop even if it almost wreck Stiles’ heart having to say it.

“Stiles, I-” he wiped his face “It’s not about you.”

“Then what is it about?”

For a moment, where neither of them moved, they were caught in limbo, each waiting for the other. But the moment passed and Derek shook his head, continuing his path up the stairs. Stiles was left standing alone and with a feeling of resignation in his chest that he couldn’t get rid of.

* * *

The restaurant was nice, Stiles had to admit. He had been a little- let’s say- anxious about going out with someone he didn’t know. He had been quite surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Mark had blocked his path in the supermarket.

“Hi- I- I know this might seem a bit- you know? Weird-” Stiles couldn’t agree more. 

“But I saw you in the lecture hall and when you gave that speech about American folklore and new adaptions, I just- sorry,” he had begun sweating, Stiles could smell it on his skin.

“I’m doing this all wrong.”

“Do you want to go out with me?” 

“What?”

“I just- you’re cute.”

“Uhm.” Yeah, he had no idea what to do with that.

“I wanted to- I wanted to ask you after the lecture but you always the first to leave so there was no time and I saw you in aisle two and I thought- hey, lucky day- and- and I promise, I’m not a stalker-”

It was refreshing to hear someone else word vomit like this when nervous and Stiles found himself strangely flattered.

“So, to uhm to get to the point,” Mark shakily drew in a breath “do you want to go on a date with me?”

Aaaand Stiles- despite hearing every word Mark had said- was not ready to answer. Did he want to? If so, why did he want to?

And yet, he agreed before he could actually make a conscious decision.

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Okay. Great. Here’s my- here’s my number.” He scribbled down his number on his receipt and shoved it at Stiles with a face redder than the tomatoes in Stiles’ hands. Stiles, completely overwhelmed and confused, only managed to wave his hand while Mark ran out of the store, almost colliding with a customer walking in.

Now, Stiles was left with a phone number and a date with a cute guy he didn’t really know and no idea what to do with any of it.

* * *

It took three phone calls- none of them to Mark, by the way- for Stiles to actually make a decision. The first one, which was probably obvious, went to Scott.

“Hey buddy, what’s up?”

“Someone invited me out.”

“That’s great! Do I know them? Where did you meet?” This was why talking to Scott calmed him down, because he was always without fail like an overexcited puppy and Stiles needed that right now.

He gave the brief rundown and felt a little more at ease with himself after Scott hung up.

“I need advice.”

“On what.”

“Dating advice.”

“Ah. Derek finally got his head out of his ass then. Congrats.”

“Not Derek.” Stiles mumbled. Jackson, unsurprisingly, caught it and expressed his opinion in a rather crude way. Again, predictable. 

“Did you lose your last few braincells or is this a momentary lapse of judgment?”

“I-”

“Rhetorical question, Stilinski.”

“Will you help me or do you just plan to insult me?” In his eyes, a valid question but Jackson obviously didn’t agree. 

“Please. As if I’m incapable of doing both…” that he wasn’t indeed. 

“Anyway. Tell me. Why are you dating someone that’s not Hale?” 

“First of, nobody is dating anyone. I just- I have a date, that’s all.”

“Again. With someone that’s not Hale, apparently.”

“Mark. He’s in my class and he wanted to ask me out but didn’t have the chance so when he saw me in the store he asked me.”

“A fairy tale. Truly.”

“Can you be serious?”

“I don’t know. Can I?” 

“Jackson!” Stiles bit out, frustration reaching its peak.

“Fine! Calm your tits.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and from the ever-suffering sigh on the other hand, he guessed Jackson had figure that he was reaching the end of his patience.

“Why do you want to go on a date with a stranger?”

“He’s not-”

“For the sake of the argument, he is. And he’s not gonna like playing second fiddle.”

“Nobody is playing- stop insinuating that there is something between Derek and I when there’s not.”

“Sure. Tell that to Derek once he finds out you’re dating other people.” 

“Derek won’t care.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to justify this nonsense.”

“Why are you being such a dick?”

“Because you called me for a reason.” That he had. And hadn’t Stiles done it because of this? 

“If you were a hundred percent certain, you wouldn’t have called. You would have gone on that date and been happy about it.”

“Fine, okay? You’re right,” Stiles said because he was, “I just- is it really so wrong to want to try?”

“No,” Jackson said, surprising Stiles with the gentleness in his voice “It’s not wrong. I just think you’re making a mistake doing that with him.”

“I get that.”

“But?”

“But Derek doesn’t want me like that.”

“You know my opinion on that and I won’t explain it to you again.”

“So, you’re saying, it’s wrong for me to go on a date with someone who obviously wants me to wait for someone who might?”

“I’m saying talk to Derek.”

“How is that gonna solve anything?”

“You’d be surprised…”

“Thanks, really, that was such good advice.”

“It was. You’re just really bad at taking it. And if you didn’t want my input, you shouldn’t have asked.”

Stiles hated that twinge in his stomach that told him Jackson was right. 

“Just-” Jackson continued once he had realised that he had been a bit too harsh “figure out what you want.”

With that, he hung up as if he hadn’t just opened a million more questions in Stiles’ head.

“I already heard.” Of course, she had. Nothing got past her after all.

“Do you want to do it?” 

“I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Derek-”

“Ok. Derek aside. If it were just you, without Derek in the back of your mind, would you want to go on the date?”

“Yes.”

“So, the only thing holding you back is your feelings for Derek.”

“Yes.”

“Well, if they’re real, you won’t fall for this Mark person anyway.”

There was a reason why he had Lydia last on his list. This was precisely it. And suddenly, the decision was so easy.

And now, he was sitting across from Mark and enjoying his small talk. They had ordered dinner and were slowly getting to know each other. Mark, sitting opposite him had soft brown eyes and a kind smile. He liked hearing Stiles’ opinion on matters and was a fan of baseball. His Henley stretched nicely over his chest. Objectively, Stiles felt like Mark should be exactly his type. But he couldn’t stop the flashes of Derek’s eyes entering his mind, the way their banter made Stiles tingle with excitement, how Derek smirked without really changing his expression.

Derek, it all came down to Derek. 

Lydia had been right- as per usual.

Stiles couldn’t- not even for a minute- blend out his feelings. Not when they were so vivid in his mind and painting an unfair comparison. He did think Mark was a nice guy, someone, he enjoyed knowing and talking to. But the spark just wouldn’t ignite. It felt almost unfair to him, but then again-

His phone blared loudly from his bag. He didn’t really glance at the display, too busy awkwardly looking at Mark and trying to apologise for the disruption. 

“Stiles?”

“Derek? What’s going on? I’m-” But Derek obviously wasn’t interested in letting him finish.

“Come over,” he growled into the receiver.

“What? No. I’m-”

Not now. 

Please not now. 

The date had been going so well, at least in Stiles’ opinion and he didn’t want to leave yet. Even the least socially intelligent person would know what leaving now meant on the first date. There was no way he could explain that away.

He’d never see Mark again, that was for sure.

“Now.”

“Derek-”

 _Listen to me_ , a part of him wanted to scream.

For the first time since meeting Derek, Stiles wished they weren’t each other’s first call.

“This is important!”

“Fine! Fuck! I’ll be there!”

He hung up a lot more harshly than necessary but with the way Derek was barking out orders no one could blame him. He was just so goddamn frustrated.

“I’m so sorry but-” He tried but one look at Mark and it became clear that no matter what he said, it wouldn’t make a difference. The date was over and done with. 

And Stiles would end up completely alone because the one time someone showed him genuine interest, he had to leave early.

“Yeah no. I get it.” Mark was already on his feet and putting down the napkin onto the table, his scent sour with disappointment. Stiles had never smelled it on someone like this before, disappointed because he thought Stiles was ditching him. He clenched his fists, breathed in through his nose to force himself to relax.

Of fucking course, the one time he was enjoying himself, something important had to come up.

If Stiles drove to Derek’s and no one was dying at the very least, he would be beyond pissed.

“Who’s dead?!” he yelled before ripping open the door to the loft. 

Derek, launching on the couch casual as you please, looked up startled and maybe a little guilty.

“No one?”

“Then what’s with the hurry? Why did I have to drive here? You said, it was important!” 

“Uhm.”

“Derek!” he screeched “If you’re about to tell me, you just called me out here for nothing, I’m going to have an aneurism!”

Derek remained silent, further fuelling Stiles’ suspicion that his leaving had not been entirely as urgent as Derek had made it seem.

“Derek… I’m serious. Why the hell did you call me?” He held onto hope that it truly was important, that he hadn’t ditched his date for nothing. That couldn’t be it, right? 

“I- have the new movie you wanted…”

Stiles’ brain screeched to a halt. 

What. The. Fuck?

“What.” he said without any inflection, because surely, he had heard wrong. 

“The movie?” Derek held up the DVD and waved it around “you wanted me to buy it and I thought we could watch it?”

“Now. You want to watch it now.” What the fuck was going on? Derek wasn’t usually this obtuse. 

“Yes?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Are you serious? What the fuck?” Derek seemed to realise then that Stiles was fuming and laid the DVD down on the couch. 

“What?”

“I had a date, you asshole!” Admittedly, he had no feelings for Mark and it had become abundantly clear that he wouldn’t develop any after a few minutes, but still. This stung. 

Derek scoffed. It set Stiles off like nothing else.

“What the fuck are you scoffing for?” 

“Since when do you go on dates?” 

“What?” he spluttered.

“Because there is no way, someone would ask me on a date, right? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“No. I’m saying that he only asked you out after you turned.” 

“What. The. Fuck.” 

Was this another dimension or did the universe really hate him this fucking much?

For God’s sake he had to have piled up some shitty Karma somewhere, because otherwise, this was beyond cruel. 

“I just want you to be careful.”

 _“Careful!_ Careful? Are you- you’ve got to be kidding me!” He had said that already, he was well aware. But he felt like he needed to reiterate because this had to be a joke, right? 

Derek wasn’t seriously being such a goddamn asshole to him, right?

Right. 

“What? What did I say?” Like he didn’t know that. But then again, how could Derek Hale, sex on legs even begin to understand how huge it was for Stiles to have been invited to a date. Freshly turned or not. 

“You have no idea, do you?” his shoulders sagged, all the fight leaving him at once. 

“No.” And that cemented his opinion that Derek had lost his grasp on reality and beings lesser than him a long time ago. Stiles didn’t even want to know what Derek saw when he looked at him. It probably hurt his eyes. 

“Brilliant. This is just- this is great.”

“Stiles-”

“This was the first, you know?” He spat out, a hysterical note in his voice that he desperately wanted to banish.

“The first what?”

“Date.”

“Obviously.”

“Is it?” He asked, voice small, shoulders hunched. 

“Yeah. You never talked about him before.”

“I meant, my first date.”

“Your first- _what_?” It should have been funny, watching Derek’s face twist up in utter incredulousness. 

“I never- I don’t get asked out. It just doesn’t happen. And maybe you’re right, okay? Maybe he did only ask me out after I got turned but what do you expect me to do? And it’s not like I changed that much. I’m still me. And for once, someone actually wants to go out with me. Am I supposed to just say no to that?”

“But-” He loathed nothing more than that flicker of pity on Derek’s face.

“Oh, come on! Don’t act like that’s news to you! You’ve known me since I was sixteen. You saw- you were there! Who do you think would ask me out on a date?” 

“I…”

“Yeah, never thought about that, have you? Of course not. Why would you…”

“Stiles-” But he had worked himself up too much to pay attention or even hear what Derek was saying.

“Who would even want to look at me with all of you there.” 

“I would.”

“Don’t.” His voice didn’t hold any bite, only resignation. He just wanted to go home. 

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why don’t you want me to talk about it?”

“Because you obviously don’t mean it and I don’t need your pity.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Sure, Der.” He couldn’t do this. Not now. Not after this disaster of a night. 

“You are. Why can’t you see-”

“ _Because I know_! I know, you don’t want me! You never have!” 

“That’s not true,” Derek said softly. He was almost drowned out by Stile’s continuous rambling. 

“And now you wanna tell me that I suddenly got moved up on the Derek-Hale-potential-dating-list? Are you kidding me? That’s bullshit. You don’t even date. And you sure as hell won’t date me. That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it?”

“Yes!” 

“Oh.” It stung more than it should have. Having to say it out loud hurt a hell of a lot more than saying it in his own head. That didn’t explain, though, why Derek was the one looking like he had been hit by a truck.

“Come on, dude. Really?”

“What?”

“Don’t make that face like you’re disappointed. Or do you think I’m that stupid?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I want to date you.”

“Yeah no. You really don’t.”

“Stiles. I’m telling you. I want to date you.”

“And I’m telling you, I don’t believe you.”

“How can you be so- _wait_!” And now Derek was scaring him with the way his eyes suddenly lit up.

“You haven’t figured it out, have you?”

“What- what are you talking about?” What even was this conversation? Stiles was getting whiplash from all the turns they had done already.

“You got the hang of everything else but not this-”

“Derek-”

“You don’t know how to read heartbeats.”

Stiles looked everywhere but at Derek, confirming without actually saying the words.

“It’s because you have no reference for it, right? You tried to listen to your own heart to see if you could determine whether you were lying but your heart beats too fast and too irregularly, so you couldn’t-” Stiles hated being called out like this. So what if he had tried it on himself?

“YES! Okay? Yes! I failed at something else! Congratulations, you figured it out! Do you want a fucking trophy?!?” He knew it wasn’t fair to yell at Derek like that but for some reason, this had hit a nerve. Derek though ignored him and stepped forward until he was dangerously close.

“You just need a reference,” Derek mumbled and took Stiles’ hand in his own. Before Stiles could even process what the fuck was happening and how good Derek’s hand felt against his own, Derek placed it on his chest. 

“Listen?” 

Stiles wanted to move away, his senses overwhelmed with a smell that was inherently Derek, but the beat of Derek’s heart kept him rooted. 

“That’s regular…” Derek said and had a secret smile on his face that made Stiles’ stomach churn. 

“Keep listening, alright?” Stiles jerked his head, mouth dry.

“I _want_ to date you,” Derek whispered and Stiles’ heart did a double take when Derek’s own heart beat remained steady.

“You want to date me…” he repeated, staring at Derek’s chest like he could see each pump of blood in his veins.

“Yes.”

“Oh… so… they were right…”

“Who was right?”

“The pack. Isaac. Jackson. When they told me…”

“Told you what?” Now Derek was looking a little dear in the headlights. And if he were still human, Stiles wouldn’t have heard the way Derek’s heart instantly sped up. His scent turned nervous.

“That you’re in love with me.”

Derek froze. Stiles was aware that this was entirely different from Derek wanting to date him but he couldn’t get the thought out of his head. And if Derek really did want to date him that could easily mean the pack was right about the rest too.

This wasn’t just attraction. 

Derek _liked_ him.

“I didn’t believe them. Because you’re you and there’s just no way. But you are. You’re in love with me.” He said, wonder coating his speech.

“Stiles-”

“No. You’re in love with me. It’s not just attraction. You have feelings for me.”

Derek looked pained.

“Yes,” he said to his feet. 

“Then why-” Stiles breathed in shakily “why would you say that?”

“Say what?” But Stiles needn’t even tell him, he figured it out within a moment “this is about what I said to Scott…”

“Yeah.”

“I want you as an Alpha.” Stiles’ brain short circuited. Because there was no way Derek had just said what Stiles thought he had said. 

“What?”

“I want you as an Alpha mate. Not as a Beta. What I said before was true. I couldn’t stomach the idea of you becoming my Beta. I was so afraid, I would- I would take advantage, that you’d feel pressured, wouldn’t say no even if you wanted to.”

“Kate. This is because of Kate, isn’t it?”

“You were too young. And then you suddenly weren’t. But you were human and I knew, I couldn’t- I couldn’t ask you then. But the idea of you turning, becoming a Beta, not being my equal anymore- I didn’t want that.”

“You could have just said- why didn’t you say that?” All this pain, all this hurt for nothing. What the fuck? 

“Because I didn’t want them to know! I don’t go announcing my feelings to the world because whenever I do, something bad happens. I knew, it would take you five seconds to figure out, how much I want you once you turned because that’s you and I couldn’t- I wasn’t…”

“You weren’t sure I wanted you back…”

“Yes.”

“Derek-”

“I didn’t mean for you to hear it. But it was the truth. I don’t think you make a good Beta because you hate having to follow orders. I want to argue with you. I want to fight with you. I don’t want to be scared to take advantage because I’m your Alpha. And I knew that you never wanted to be a wolf to begin with.”

“Why didn’t you just- you knew it hurt me- why didn’t you just tell me…”

“You wouldn’t have believed me…”

“I would have.”

“No. You wouldn’t have. I’m not- I’m not mad about it. It’s just the truth. You only believe me now because you would know if I was lying.”

He said it without any malice, without even a hint of anger.

“Kiss me?” Stiles didn’t know where his sudden courage came from, only that he was glad for the question he had wanted to ask since forever had finally passed his lips. 

Derek’s eyes shot up, eyebrow raised incredulously.

“What?”

“Kiss me.”

“Stiles-”

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“What you just said. You said, I wouldn’t have believed you if I hadn’t heard your heartbeat and you’re right. I wouldn’t have. But if you meant it, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t kiss me.”

“Do you want me to?” The question had come out a lot more tentative and unsure than Stiles would have thought.

His courage had left him suddenly, so, instead of a verbal answer, he simply nodded, fearing that if he were to speak up, he would burst the bubble around them and the moment would shatter. 

Derek remained motionless for a second longer before he squared his shoulders and straightened visibly. With two large steps, he was looming over Stiles, suddenly appearing much taller than Stiles knew he was. He prepared himself, braced for the moment Derek would sweep him off his feet and throw him against the wall in a passionate tumble. That was not how it happened.   
Derek blinked down on him, lips parted.

Their breath mingled and Stiles could taste the woods on Derek even before the distance closed between them. Then, softly, like a flutter, Derek’s lips touched Stiles’. His hands, almost on their own accord, found Derek’s shoulders, needing something to hold onto, to steady himself with. Derek, in turn, let his hands fall to Stiles’ waist, not harshly but still pulling him in.

Stiles felt the kiss all the way down to his toes. Derek’s shoulders were firm under his hands, his lips soft against Stiles’. He didn’t know it could feel like this, kissing Derek, didn’t know he would ever be allowed to even try. The thought unsettled him a little, made their rhythm falter. 

“Stiles-” Derek had never sounded this hoarse, never this rough around the edges. And Stiles wanted nothing more than to replay the call of his name in his head until he wouldn’t remember his name being said any other way. 

“Stay?” Derek asked, pleaded and Stiles didn’t know why.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me,” Derek breathed, only an inch separating them “You went somewhere. In your head.” Stiles noticed how Derek’s lashes lay against his cheeks, drawing delicate shadows that he wanted to trace.

“Come back to me…” Derek looked at him then. The red orbs glowed with intensity. Their intensity, the emotion Stiles saw in those eyes, it settled whatever had been askew in his stomach.

This time, it was Stiles who pulled Derek in, a little more harshly than necessary so that their teeth clashed together. Derek chuckled, angled Stiles’ head so that the angle was better.

The tension in Stiles’ body slowly unfurled and he let a soft laugh wash over him. He hadn’t realised just how anxious he had been this whole time. The mishap was such an ordinary, such a normal thing to have happened to him that it calmed him down, took away some of the novelty of the situation.

“I really want to try…” Derek whispered against his lips. His breath tickled against Stiles’ own. 

“Try?” Stiles felt short of breath, confused and happy all the same. It was a heady mix.

“Being with you. I want to try.”

“Okay,” Stiles whispered back, “okay.”

Derek was smiling, leaning back in when something occurred to Stiles that he needed to address.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to me the other day?” Derek kept looking at him uncomprehendingly but then Stiles saw realisation dawn. Derek sighed, stepped back.

“Because they’re my fault.”

“What’s your fault? The scars? Derek that’s bullshit!”

“No, it’s not,” he sounded as resigned as Stiles had felt that day, “It’s not,” he said, pointing at Stiles.

“You said it yourself, I didn’t think- I never realised…” the mood was slowly switching into something terrible again. 

“Derek-”

“I never considered- what it would feel like to you. Each time you got hurt, I shrugged it off. Because you didn’t _seem_ hurt. You never made a big deal out of it. But I didn’t realise that was because you’re you and you hate feeling vulnerable. And I just- I went with it- because it was always- you never- in my mind, you healed. Like we do…”

Derek looked frustrated, like he hated himself for Stiles’ scars.

“I had to- I needed to really understand what I put you through- and when you came over I wasn’t- I wasn’t ready. It- Stiles- I never meant-”

Stiles broke down. 

“They look ugly…” he pressed out between clenched teeth. The truth he had kept so close to his chest for years, it now came out like a waterfall.

“I didn’t want you to see them.”

“They’re not ugly,” Derek spoke softly, stepped close again “they’re not. It’s- I know you don’t see it that way, but- to me- they’re not ugly…”

Stiles wanted to shove his hand away when it traced the hem of Stiles’ shirt where one nasty scar decorated his shoulder. He noticed how badly Derek’s hand was trembling.

“It’s- it’s like living proof of what you’re capable of. You survived. All those things that kept coming at you but nothing had the power to take you apart. Don’t you see how beautiful that is? For us, it’s easy- when you can heal a stab wound within minutes, but you- you didn’t have that. You only had your own strength to keep you standing. And you did. For so long…”

“Derek-” His throat was too tight, his eyes burned.

“You’re beautiful. To me, you’re so, so beautiful, Stiles…”

And that was it. The last straw. Stiles fell forwards, holding onto Derek’s shoulders while he let his lips collide with Derek’s. He heard Derek gasp, pulled him closer.

This was it, he realised. 

This was worth waiting for.  
  


* * *

Two weeks. They had made it a whole of two weeks before things went to shit again. Not literally. But Stiles did wonder, why the universe seemed to have it out for them. He knew, of course that Beacon Hills would always be exactly that but two weeks of a break was entirely too short.

Jackson had caught the scent of another wolf in the preserve. And just when Stiles was finally about to relax about his new state of being. He really had better things to do than chase an Omega off the property. Well, Derek’s property, if they were being honest.

“I don’t like the way it smells,” Jackson had complained. Derek, to everyone’s surprise had agreed even before Peter had called them from wherever he was now. Apparently, the Omega was on the run. And not the way Derek had been. This one was on the run because he had killed his entire pack, apart from the Alpha, and was now touring the country to find an Alpha to take down.

Stiles felt his anger rise. That Omega could try all he wanted. If he wanted to kill an Alpha, he would have to look elsewhere.

“Is he still on the territory?” 

“Yeah. I think he’s planning on staying.”

“How come?”

“He’s settled down in a cave not far from the well. Pretty good observation point, if you ask me.”

“You think we can just ask him to leave?” Scott threw in, once more opting for the peaceful way to solve things. Stiles wasn’t entirely on board, not because he wanted a blood bath but because he feared what could happen if this Omega was allowed to continue on.

A plan was being devised that Stiles was not all too happy with. They would try their best to resolve the situation but if- and Stiles feared that if was rather a when- the Omega didn’t agree to their terms, they would defend their territory.

Derek pulled him aside before they were leaving. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because it’s not been that long and you have to go in alone.”

“Oh. That.”

Derek chuckled. He had a glint in his eyes that drew Stiles in every day.

“Yeah. That.”

“Don’t worry, Big Guy. I can handle one Omega.”

“I know. Just-”

“You don’t want me near him. I get it.” Derek’s protective instinct had tripled since they’d made their relationship official. And while Stiles understood the reason, he had to remind Derek that Stiles was adult, a werewolf and fully capable of ripping someone’s throat out himself. He remembered how hard Derek had laughed- doubled over, head thrown back- when Stiles had used that particular threat on him.

“I know you’re on edge about that. But if we’re lucky, he’ll think me no threat. And then…” Stiles pressed a quick peck on Derek’s lips. He still couldn’t believe he was allowed to do that so casually. 

“He won’t know what hit him.”

“You’re impossible. You know that?” Derek’s eyes flashed red briefly before his hands tightened around Stiles’ waist. It had something rough, almost possessive.

“Just you wait, Sourwolf.”

“For what?”

“For when this is over and we have the loft to ourselves.”

“Why?”

Stiles though, just winked and strutted out the door. Derek caught up with him before his foot could even touch the first step. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“You better.”

* * *

A stroll through the preserve was something Stiles usually enjoyed. Hunting down a rogue Omega did put a damper on it though. He looked forward when this was over. Getting time with Derek alone, especially with Isaac out of the loft for the night was rare. And he had a whole list of things prepared he wanted to work through with the Alpha. This better be over quickly, he thought while stumbling through the bushes.

The bite, while giving him speed and strength, hadn’t done anything for his natural clumsiness, which, at first, he had been pretty annoyed about. But then again, that would have taken away a part of who he was and he didn’t want that.

After a few minutes of careful steps, Stiles caught a glimpse of the cave Jackson had mentioned. And there it was. That stench of blood. Stiles could have lived his whole life without ever smelling that again.

He could only imagine how deeply that scent had to be integrated in the Omega’s own scent for it to be so prominent. For a moment, he couldn’t help but miss his human nose. He sure as hell wouldn’t have had to breathe through his mouth to avoid getting sick.

“What do we have here?” Stiles whirled around, caught a little off guard. The Omega, he noted, was rogue in every sense of the word. The madness in his eyes, the wildness of his features, it screamed danger to him.

Still, there was no need to be scared, Stiles knew that. And that the Omega had shown himself so casually meant exactly what Stiles had hoped. That, once more, he was being underestimated. The wolf had probably seen and heard him stumble and talk to himself and- just as planned- had thought him an easy target.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here? I heard this is private property!” The Omega was taunting him, that much was abundantly clear.

Stiles had a hard time not breaking out in laughter after that sentence. Too vivid were the memories of Derek snapping those words at him all those years back. He couldn’t allow for the smirk to manifest, so he made a point of observing the Omega in front of him.

Drool ran down the Omega’s chin and his fangs were elongated. Stiles couldn’t help the grin slowly spreading on his own face. Stiles leaned forward, fangs elongating too when he heard a familiar rustle on his side. Derek appeared just then, eyes already glowing a deep red, one hand reaching out to ghost over Stiles’ shoulder. 

Stiles’ eyes flashed a dangerous blue in answer.

He felt the thrum of adrenaline consuming him. Derek, even though his face would never betray him, was right there with him, excitement sparking the air.

“Yeah, you’re right! This is private property!” Stiles said, leaning against a tree in a faux-casual pose.

His calm seemed to catch the other wolf off guard.

Stiles looked at Derek, waiting for the signal and when Derek gave it, Stiles grinned and said: 

_“And you’re trespassing.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear your thoughts on this. 
> 
> And if you decide to leave kudos, well, let's just say, I'll be very happy.


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